Loose
by CMW2
Summary: COLLEGE AU WIP:It's Friday night at Georgetown and thanks to loving nagging from her best friends, Olivia 'Poindexter' Pope is out on the town and on the dance floor. Fitz Grant III is freshly liberated from a bad relationship and the control of his father. What happens when they meet?;Rated for language and Olitz spice;lyrics within are not mine;9th in my 2013 SSS Project.
1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note: I've been seeing a lot of college themed Olitz fics around lately and I want to play, too. Here's what you need to know: 23 year old Liv's known as Poindexter Pope throughout campus, always reading, always staying in, never doing anything fun, holding back who she really is out of insecurity and doubt. 25 year old Fitz has disowned himself from Big Jerry and his machinations and after finding Mellie in the throes with another man ends it with her on the spot, prompting his boys to take on the mission of getting him over her by getting on top of (or underneath or sideways with) someone else. In order to shut Abby up for a month about her social life (or lack thereof), Liv agrees to accompany her and their group of friends out to a House Party. Their paths collide and then…well, just read on. **

**Disclaimer: "Honestly, it's not mine!"**

"_Come on, Liv. It'll be fun!"_

"_Don't say fun. That'll send her heading straight for the bunker and a rocking fetal position."_

"_Shut the fuck up, David! Olivia, it's just one party. You won't even have to stay the whole time…"_

"_Abs, I have two papers due on Monday morning and a debate that evening. I can't…"_

"_You're already done with one paper and you just need to add footnotes to the other one, I checked. As for the Debate, you're Olivia Pope, the Apolitical Assassin of Georgetown. You'll take those clowns out from NYU with your hands tied behind your back. Besides, it's on a Friday. With me around, your hangover will be gone by Sunday evening…maybe. Come on, please?"_

"_If she doesn't want to go, then we shouldn't make her. Besides, you heard her. She's got shit to do…"_

"_Huck, you're just as busy as her and __**you're**__ going."_

"_I have my reasons."_

"_Yeah, that Quinn Perkins girl that just transferred in from Texas. Ever since you two geeked out together at the diner over the glitches in the new Windows X-whatever, you've been after her like you're the IRS. Harrison, tell her to come with us tomorrow!"_

"_No one __**tells**__ Liv to do anything and you know it. Good luck trying, though. It's like pulling teeth…"_

"_I'm sitting right here, you know. Abby, I'm really not one for partying."_

"_You never even tried it… look, if you come to this thing, I promise on all my baking equipment that I'll leave you alone about your impending cat ladydom for a month. One whole month of your choosing and I can't wiggle out of it. You can wear whatever you want, drink as little as you want, and you don't have to talk to anyone past bare minimum politeness, although it would be nice for you to get you some headboard action of the non Cosby Kid kind."_

"_Edison wasn't a Cosby Kid."_

"_Uh, yeah he was and he had a 50s husband mentality that made me want to chop his nads off and use them as sprinkles."_

"_Me too. That's why I ended it. All right, Gingersnap, I'll come. But I won't like it…"_

"_Kick-__**ass!**__ She's coming with us!"_

"_It's a __**miracle!**__"_

"_**Shut the fuck up, David!**__"_

* * *

_**We doin'... big pimpin', we spendin' G's  
Check 'em out now  
Big pimpin', on B.L.A.D.'s  
We doin'... big pimpin' up in N.Y.C.  
It's just that Jigga Man, Pimp C, and B-U-N B  
Yo yo yo... big pimpin', spendin' G's  
We doin - big pimpin', on B.L.A.D.'s  
We doin... big pimpin' up in N.Y.C.  
It's just that Jigga Man, Pimp C, and B-U-N B (b...)…**_

The volume on her stereo was loud enough to make the floor vibrate underneath her bare feet as she bounced in place to the beat, much to Abby Whelan's grinning delight. Olivia Pope was not one for partying but she also wasn't one for doing things in half measures. If she was going to disrupt her routine and 'let loose', then she was going to go all out and few things got her hyped better than a Jay-Z classic. Not to mention her favorite white panties with the tiny black bow and the matching sea shell cup white bra.

She was going to need all the help she could get.

_**Nigga it's the - big Southern rap impresario  
Comin' straight up out the black bar-rio  
Makes a mill' up off a sorry hoe  
Then sit back and peep my sce-nawr-e-oh  
Oops, my bad, that's my scenario  
No I can't fuck a scary hoe  
Now every time, every place, everywhere we go  
Hoes start pointin' - they say, "There he go!"  
Now these motherfuckers know we carry mo' heat than a little bit  
We don't pull it out over little shit.  
And if you catch a lick when I spit, then it won't be a little hit…**_

The party was going to be at Alpha Sigma Omega's place, also known as the House of the Silver Spoon Hotties. Old money, new money, political money…all kinds of money was represented in their lineup. There were first draft QB picks in the same hallway as Rhodes Scholars and it was the place of the Names. Names like Doyle, Reston, Carter, and Grant. The members of the frat were known for their charm, their cunning, and their looks. From the Brooklyn Beboy to the Texan Cowboy, a person's preference was there for the ogling, the lusting, the flirting, and if brave enough, the taking…

…_**if he up, watch him fall, nigga I can't fuck witch'all  
If I wasn't rappin' baby, I would still be ridin' Mercedes  
Chromin' shinin' sippin' daily, no rest until whitey pay me  
Uhhh, now what y'all know bout them Texas boys  
Comin' down in candied toys, smokin weed and talkin' noise…**_

A white t-shirt with the Ramones eagle on the side in bright green was pulled over her head and went down to her hips, showing a daring but not indecent amount of cleavage. Dark gray capri yoga pants went on next, emphasizing the strength of her long legs and the full roundness of her ass. Bending down, she slid into a pair of sturdy black heels and topped the t-shirt with a black short sleeved button down, the silver decorative buckles at the bottom of the sleeves matching the ones on her heels. Clicking to her vanity, she released the usual clips pinning her hair up and it fell to her shoulders in its natural thick waves, her center part on point. After hesitating for a moment, Olivia carefully removed the black square frame glasses she was known to wear and set them down. While she did have astigmatism, she could see well enough without them but…no! She wasn't backing down from this! She was a Pope and Popes never quit and they never backed down! She could do this!

Opening the drawer, she pulled out the unopened Urban Decay palettes she had bought over the summer before fishing her mascara and liner out of her tote. Opening the Dangerous palette, she picked the shade of deep purple labeled 'gravity' and applied it evenly over both eyes. The black liner pencil came next and was smeared on with a thumb to give a 80s like look. Two coats of mascara and finally, she opened a stick of deep, matte red lipstick and applied it. Straightening up, she put her cosmetics in the black clutch she had loaded earlier and looked towards her now gaping best friend. She turned off the stereo and topped her outfit with a cream colored trench coat that flared at the bottom with each step. It was her favorite coat. It made her feel like she could take on anything and more importantly, it made her feel…sexy. Getting to the bottom of the stairs, she felt a deep shot of satisfaction as the group's collective jaws hit the floor at the sight of her.

"Let's do this!", she declared before putting her best strut forward, a warrior's smile curving her lips as they fell into step with her out into the warm mid-autumn evening.

…_**And we be... big pimpin', on B.L.A.D.'s  
Cause we be... big pimpin' in P.A.T.  
It's just that Jigga Man, Pimp C, and B-U-N B... nigga.**_

_**/**_

"_Fitzgerald, I'm so sorry! It was a stupid mistake and…"_

"_Save it, Millicent. I had my suspicions about you from the moment Big Jerry introduced us so I did some digging. Turns out that not only were you cheating on me with Rimbeau, you were cheating with a Paul Mosley of Raleigh, NC, your hometown. You're not sorry about anything except the fact that you've lost your opportunity to get in good with the Grants. Or not. Big Jerry likes them young and icy…"_

"_Your father will __**never**__ allow you to break up with me without consequences. He wants us married no matter what the cost."_

"_Yes, he made that very clear when I contacted him earlier. In response, I told him that he could take his threats, his Plans for me being his political Golden Goose, and his moneygrubbing Matchmaking and fuck off. He said that he'd disown me, that he'd ruin me, but what my father has forgotten is that my inheritance is controlled through my mother's side of the family and they despise him and everything that he stands for. They never trusted him and since I'm their only grandchild/nephew/cousin, they wanted to make sure I would be okay."_

"_What are you rambling about?"_

"_He can cut me off but in response to that, the trust funds from them and my mother's personal estate will kick in fully, making what he's dangling in front of me look like chump change. Oh, yes. As long as I don't something completely stupid, like, I don't know, buying half of Germany and renaming it Fitzgerbralter, I'm set for life. Also, the PreNup he signed when marrying into the Neiderman family also penalizes him for any proven amount of infidelity and everyone but my mother knew how much of a whore he was when he was on the road and in his office. I managed to find 8 women ready and willing to go public with their affairs with him over the years. And then, I found evidence of under the table financial dealings during his campaigns and his terms as California Governor, which I sent to the panel of people my mother's family put together to explore allegations of voter fraud. It seems that he may stolen a couple of elections in his heyday. It's gonna be great. It's gonna be an absolute, Pulitzer and Emmy worthy smash: Legacy Destroyed: The Fitzgerald Grant Jr. Story. His professional credibility is gonna go down in flames, his personal life will exposed and disected to become a punch line worthy of a whole catalog full of stained blue dresses, he'll likely do time… and it's all thanks to you, Millicent. I would have never mustered up the courage and resolve to fight against him and win without your coming into my life and playing me like a fucking violin."_

"_You…you…you…I…Fitzgerald, wait… don't go…we can…we can…I…"_

"_Thank you so much, Millicent. For the first time ever, I am truly a free moral agent and I'm never going back. From the bottom of my heart, I thank you and I hope that you have a long and healthy and warmly fulfilling life…__**far away from me.**__"_

"_**Fitzgerald! **__Fitzgerald, come back here!"_

* * *

_**Free like the river  
Flowing freely through infinity  
Free to be sure of  
What I am and who I need not be  
Free from all worries  
Worries prey on oneself's troubled mind  
Freer than the clock's hands  
Tickin' way the times  
Freer than the meaning of free that man defines  
Life running through me  
Till I feel my father God has called…**_

"Your father called me again, today. He's getting absolutely crucified out there, Fitz."

"Oh, I know he is. I've been following the story since it broke and it's a doozy. I never knew just how dirty he was…in more ways than one."

"Look, I know that Big Jerry has been a bastard towards you since before you could talk but maybe you could fly back to California and give a statement, show a little support for him?"

"I can't do that, Cyrus."

"Can't or _**won't?**_"

"You're the almighty, all powerful Cyrus Beene, you figure it out."

After his Liberation 2 months before, Fitz Grant III's personality had changed. He was still the same jovial and fiercely intelligent person he had been before but there was steel there that hadn't been there before. Or perhaps it had been but he had never noticed it before, never grasped onto it tightly and greedily like he was now. He was absolutely done with people's shit and he was unafraid to let them know if the need arose. Surprising everyone, he was going for the Bar, wanting to obtain his legal license so he could go into family law as an attorney and eventually a judge. His reaching out to his mother's family after years of disconnect, years of the fear of being lumped in with Big Jerry, and the way they had used the courts to rally around him…it had been like a shot of adrenaline. He had only gone on the law track to appease his father, to prep for the Long Road to 1600 Penn but meeting the attorneys, learning about the maneuvers, documents and precedents that achieved the Herculean task of culling his father…it was a rush that he wanted to explore. He wanted to help protect families of all types and backgrounds from those who hurt them while claiming to love them. He truly wanted to make a difference…

"You…you're the source, aren't you? You _**are!**_ You're the one pulled the fire alarm. You…I'm impressed. I didn't think you had it in you."

Against his will, a small but very smug smirk curved his lips upwards and Fitz propped his black canvas sneaker clad feet up on one of the tables students used during lectures.

"I didn't do it by myself but I did kick over the first domino. Cyrus, my father has spent his life hurting people. My mother, myself, the women he cheated with and on, the voters and people he manipulated and stole from…I'm of the opinion that what you give, you get back tenfold. He gave pain, he gave ruined reputations, he gave mockery and scorn and now, his time has come and I will nothing to temper it. He's always claimed to be strong, to be a real man. Real men own their shit and endure the consequences with dignity and honor to come through stronger. He'll be fine in the end."

"And if he's not?"

"I won't lose any sleep over it and if need be, I'll be glad to give his eulogy."

… _**Freer than a raindrop  
Falling from the sky  
Freer than a smile in a baby's sleepin' eyes**_

**_I'm free like a river_**  
**_Flowin' freely through infinity_**  
**_I'm free to be sure of what_**  
**_I am and who I need not to be_**  
**_I'm much freer - like the meaning of the word free that crazy man defines…_**

"Hell hath no fury like a Fitz Grant III scorned…"

"Mm. You have to really care about someone for them to scorn you, Cyrus. I didn't really care about Mellie. Not like I should've if she was going to be my wife and I know for a fact that she didn't care that much about me either, despite her wailing protests to the contrary. I'd like to think that even if I didn't find out what was going on, I would've been strong enough not to let Big Jerry railroad me down the aisle with her but…well, I guess I'll never find out, now. I gotta go."

"Ah, yes. The bacchanalia at your House tonight. What's the occasion?"

"Officially, it's to give everyone something good to remember before the first exams destroy all their hopes and precious dreams but according to the guys, I'm more backed up than LA rush hour traffic so it's time for me to get back in the saddle and what better way to do that than to have an open house party where the women outnumber the men 3 to 1?"

"Nice."

"Not really but it is what it is. I'm open to anything coming my way nowadays. I'll be at the Debate on Monday."

"Good, you'll be able to see the Apolitical Assassin in action."

"Who?"

"Oh, sorry. I forgot you're still settling in. Olivia Pope. People around campus call her Poindexter. She's a couple of years behind you but she's got a grasp and spin on Politics far beyond her years. She's like a shy baby duck everywhere else but put her in a Debate and she's a ruthless, bloodthirsty lioness, an absolute pistol. She's brilliant, one of my best students, if not the best, not that I'll ever tell her that, of course…"

"Of course. Well, I'll be sure to keep an eye out for her. Later, Cyrus."

"Don't get anyone pregnant!"

Laughing, he waved and headed down the corridor, a serene smile brightening his face.

…_**Free - free like the vision that  
The mind of only you are ever gonna see  
Free like the river my life  
Goes on and on through infinity.**_

_**/**_

_**Baby Boy, you stay on my mind  
Fulfill my fantasies  
I think about you all the time  
I see you in my dreams**_

**_Baby Boy, not a day goes by_**  
**_Without my fantasies_**  
**_I think about you all the time_**  
**_I see you in my dreams…_**

Olivia loved to dance. She always had and along with her studies and swimming, it had become her solace when times got rough. People could leave, places and boarding schools could change but music…music stayed consistent. Even with all the different genres, all the innovations in creating beats and hooks, at the core it was always a way for people to express themselves in a way that words and lies couldn't touch.

After doing 4 straight tequila shots in a row with David Rosen (impressing many of the party-goers, party-goers who had been comically astounded to see her amongst them) and systematically annihilating an innocent pizza with her friends, she had headed towards the basement, towards the source of the bass shaken floor. Initially, she had hugged the walls, getting a feel for the layout and trying to determine if the DJ (Gideon Wallace, a journalism student) knew what they were doing. Once it had become clear that he did, she had claimed a place just off the center of the floor and remained there, moving in and out of dance packs of girls and fending off the overtures of various boys between breaks, mainly Jake Ballard.

He had arrived at Georgetown after 2 tours during Operation: Iraqi Freedom and through the GI Bill was getting his degrees in Constitutional Law and Poli-Sci, like her. A group assignment from Professor Whitley had put her in his crosshairs last semester and he had been pursuing her ever since, much to Abby's amusement and the boys' indifference or disdain, it depended on what day it was.

Olivia was not interested in him romantically. She just wasn't. He was smart and he was funny and reasonably attractive but there was just no spark on her part, which she had firmly informed him many a time. Unfortunately, he was the sort of man that thought **NO** meant there was leeway for convincing, that if she just 'gave him a chance', then she'd realize how good they could be together.

Edison Davis had used the same logic to start their relationship and now that she knew better, she wouldn't be falling into that particular tiger trap again. Spotting him halfway down the stairs, Olivia quickly absorbed herself back into the mass, eventually finding herself near a much darker corner of the basement. Hopefully, Jake would think she had left and he'd find another girl to bother for the time being. Turning her back to the corner (and the likely fornicating couple in its shadowy depths), she fell back into the song, one of her favorites from Beyonce.

_**Picture us dancin' real close  
In a dark dark corner of a basement party  
Every time I close my eyes  
It's like everyone left but you and me…**_

Closing her eyes, she gently ran her hands over her torso, her hips winding in serpentine movements as she spun in place. It would be quite nice if the hands weren't her own but baby steps. She had gone from a semi-recluse in the hierarchy to a 'cool geeky girl' in less than 4 hours. There was no reason to…

Her eyes opened wide as hands spanned her hips.

_**In our own little world  
The music is the sun  
The dance floor becomes the sea…**_

They were much too big to be Jake's and she knew that he wouldn't have the guts to touch her so matter of factly anyway. Unsure of whether to pull away or scream, she turned her head and looked up, meeting cerulean slate eyes.

Although she had never met him personally, she had seen Fitz Grant III's arrival to Georgetown during a morning run. Unlike other Senator's sons and big shots, he had arrived in a nice, late model BMW and had hauled all of his luggage into the house himself. Still, the female population had gone absolutely gaga over him, especially after seeing him strip off his shirt during a large pickup basketball game on the last truly hot day of the year. There was YouTube footage of it and Abby had shown it to her, declaring him to be 'smokin' fucking hot, even if he _**is**_ from the loins of a Republican piece of shit'. Olivia had agreed and seemingly discarded the fact but in reality, she hadn't. And now, he was touching her. He was looking at her and touching her and…

His hands started to pull away and she stopped them by putting her hands on top.

… _**Feels like true paradise to me…**_

_**/**_

He had arrived to the party just as it really started to pick up and the Hot Topic was Poindexter Pope, Cy's prizefighting Debate student. Apparently, the shy baby duck had come out swinging: looking good, doing multiple shots, and was totally dancing it up in the basement. Fitz had always been curious and after mingling in the backyard briefly, used the cellar entrance to the basement to hug the walls without being bothered. He wasn't one for dancing. In fact, many friends had compared his dancing to a drunken giraffe on roller-skates but he had wanted to put a face to the name. And he had.

Olivia Pope was like a pure blue flame to him, drawing him in immediately. Fitz was no stranger to beautiful women nor was he a stranger to intelligent ones. Yet listening to her discuss the raging scandal surrounding his father and outlining a proper hypothetical replacement for the Senate seat before watching her hips follow Nina Sky's demand to **Move Ya Body** had shaken everything up. He had withdrawn to the shadows as Jake Ballard came up to her, assuming that he was with her and wanting to regroup, maybe grab a drink or two to help get over the disappointment.

He had assumed wrong. After the other man had gone up to use the head, he had overheard some people speculating on when she'd finally snap and mace him blind so he'd leave her alone for good. Given that she was known for her withdrawn nature, the likelihood of her being unattached was high and if so, Fitz wanted to introduce himself, talk to her about their mutual familiarity with Cyrus Beene.

Things hadn't worked out that way.

_**…Baby Boy, you stay on my mind  
Baby Boy, you are so damn fine …**_

They had moved back into the main area of the party and were drawing eyes as they danced together. Well, she was dancing. He was just following. In a move reminiscent to the video, she stepped forward and dropped low, coming up slowly and looking at him with heated intent, the crowd urging them on as he pulled her flush against him, front to front for swaying.

_**Baby Boy, won't you be mine  
Baby, let's conceive an angel…**_

Gentle fingers stopped him from capturing her red tinted mouth but her body language was still open, still warm…

"Come here."

He knew that he'd get a metric ton of shit for willingly letting her lead him back into the shadows like a schoolgirl leading her sweetheart. After all, he was 6'2 and he was certain that without her heels, she was barely past 5'4…

He also knew that he didn't give a fuck.

_**/**_

…_**my mind is starting to burn  
with forbidden thoughts  
strangers all around  
with the lights down low  
I was thinking maybe we could...well you know…**_

His lips were soft and hot, tasting like scotch and pineapple slices. There was a spare bed on a box-spring just past a few rolling racks of clothes and a stack of boxes. The mattress was covered with a royal purple fitted sheet, matching cases on the pillows and there was more bedding, folded and ready for use nearby. He had sat down and she had straddled him, kissing him with an ardor that shocked her. Olivia wasn't exactly a prude but she wasn't a wild woman, either. She had never felt that pull, that fire, that 'enough talk, let's _**go**_' drive to be someone before. Her experience was limited to Edison, whose ideas of sexual intimacy were staunchly traditional…and disappointing.

With just his touch and his kisses, Fitz had her more than halfway there. Her inhibitions, her reason was just melting away and she wanted to touch him, taste him, feel him moving inside her…

_**I want you now  
I don't wanna stop just because  
you feel so good inside of my love…**_

"We can stop. If you want to stop, we can. I don't want you to feel…", he started seriously, even as he allowed her to pull the forest green sweater he wore over his head, revealing lightly tanned skin.

His words died in a low grunt as she placed herself firmly over his erection, grinding down between layers of clothing. Her hands stroked over his torso, impressed by his flawless definition and appreciating the springy friction of the hair. Pushing them forward, she rose up on her forearms to look down at him, to press soft kisses to his compliant mouth.

"**I want you**. I want you here and I want you, now. Do you want me?"

"_**Yes**_, Olivia.", he groaned softly.

"Show me, then. Show me you want me, Fitz…"

_**I want you all I wanna say is  
Anytime,anyplace I don't care who's around  
anytime,and any place I don't care who's around…**_

_**/**_

The party was still going on upstairs, the basement having emptied out after their retreat, which was good because he wanted to hear her. He wanted to learn what she liked, he wanted to make her come on his tongue, his fingers, his cock without inhibition, without shame.

"_Inside me…inside me, Fitz…I can't…I need…oh, __**god**_…"

Panting, he removed his face from between her legs and looked at her. She was shivering from the coolness of the basement and the hotness of their sex. Her dark nipples were diamond hard and there was a lovely pink tint to her milk chocolate skin, sweat shimmering in the dim light. Her hips were questing for relief, raising and twisting erotically against his as he reached for his wallet, for the condoms he kept within…

"_I…I'm on Depo and I'm clean. I want to feel you…all of you…god, I just met you and I want to feel all of you…what's wrong with me?"_

"_Absolutely nothing is wrong with you, Olivia. I want to feel all of you, too. I'm clean_…"

"_Fitz, inside me…take me…love me, baby_…"

A soft cry escaped her as he slid into her and her ankles locked around him, urging him deeper, aiding his entry. Fitz groaned as her tight walls quivered and clamped around him welcomely, her hot wet warmth engulfing him. Sitting them up, she wrapped herself around him like she had just jumped into his arms and he held her flush to him, skin on skin as her fingers ran through his hair. He kissed her neck and collarbone, one of his hands sliding into her hair as her head went back.

"_**Oh, my God!**_"

"_Ride me, Livvie. Make us come_…"

With a small whimper, she started to move on top of him, a little clumsily at first but then with growing confidence. Her hand went to his cheek and she gasped as he cupped her hips again, aiding her and allowing him to go deeper. Their kisses were languid and messy as they agreed upon a rhythm and started adding speed. Each little gasp, moan, and yelp added more to his pleasure. She wanted him. She wanted him to touch her, to make her feel good. It wasn't a duty or a chore. Olivia opened herself to his touches and their eyes stayed on each other, half lidded and smoldering with sexual heat.

"…_you feel so good…ooh, you're so hard and hot inside me…mmmm…__**ah!**_"

Groaning low in his chest, Fitz continued playing with her swollen clit and thrusting up into her hard. Each impact made her shiver on his lap and her walls flutter. Bracing her hands on his chest, she rode him fiercely, her breathing punctuated by breathless little 'ah'!s and deep moans.

Wanting to help her, needing to feel her, he dipped her his fingers against her humid heat and she ground down on him, her lips suckling on the upper part of his ear…

"_**Fitz**_…", she cooed.

"_Come for me, sweetheart…let go_…"

His lips muffled her cries as her body finally surrendered to its bliss, bringing him with her with a low, deep growl of satisfaction.

_**/**_

"You look like you had a nice night."

Noting and promptly ignoring the hints of petulance in Jake's tone, Olivia grabbed one of the sausage McMuffins on the tray and a small carton of OJ. She had put her panties back on and had claimed Fitz's sweater as a coverup. It was very soft and warm, infused with his scent and went to her knees. Her hair looked like she had been in a wind tunnel and her makeup was smeared from slumber and Fitz's attentions.

"More than nice, actually. Did any of my friends say where they'd be this morning?"

"No, they were busy. Do you need someone to walk you back?"

"If she does, I've got it.", a voice cut in before she could reply.

Fitz had pulled his gray striped boxers back on and she was still very appreciative of the view of his torso, especially the impressive lovebite she had left on his clavicle. There was a similar mark on hers but was distinctly shaped like his incisors. Crossing to her without a care in the world, Olivia smiled as he pressed a good morning kiss to her temple and stole a bite of her muffin.

"After all, what kind of boyfriend would I be if I didn't make sure she got home safe?"

"Boyfriend?", Jake inquired with a significant look at her.

Olivia considered it and when she looked up into Fitz's eyes, she saw not the male arrogance she had expected but a vulnerability, a tenderness that surprised and delighted her. This wasn't just a morning after, Alpha Male asserting his dominance over a challenger thing. He really wanted to be her boyfriend.

With a resolute nod, she turned back to Jake and confirmed, "Boyfriend. Well, more like **_man_**-friend but you get the idea."

"Oh. Well, congratulations. I'll see in class, Olivia. Fitz.", Jake replied stiltedly, retreating fast.

"You have the patience of a dozen saints.", Fitz declared with disgust after the front door slammed behind him.

"I'm probably going to end up having to report him before the end of the year. Or I could just have my big, strong boyfriend beat the hell out of him for me."

"I'd be glad to."

"Maybe after the mess with your dad dies down. So, we're together?"

"As long as you want to be, Olivia. I really like you and I want to see what could happen between us."

"I want that, too. Let's go lay back down."

She yelped and buried her face in his neck giggling as he carried her upstairs to his room, regardless of the hooting and hollering of the hungover masses.

It would be all over campus by noon, Poindexter Pope and the soon to be ex-Senator Grant's son.

They would be subject to scrutiny from peers, professors, even the media yet she didn't care.

Abby was right.

Letting loose definitely had its benefits.

* * *

**Song Lyric Sources:**

'**Big Pimpin' by Jay-Z feat. UGK (Vol. 3…Life and Times of S. Carter)**

'**Free' by Stevie Wonder (Characters)**

'**Baby Boy' by Beyonce feat. Sean Paul (Dangerously in Love)**

**Any Time, Any Place by Janet Jackson (janet.)**


	2. Chapter 2

**Author's Note: Good evening, everyone. In the immortal words of our favorite Admiral: "Okay, you win!" I have no intention of abandoning **_**Shattering**_** nor the other Olitz fic ideas brewing in my head but man, you guys are so awesome. And sweet. And encouraging. And **_**persistent**_**. The reviews and the notes on Tumblr says it all and my Muses are all like '**_**DO**_** it!' so **_**Loose**_** is officially another Olitz WIP. I'm not…let's try for somewhere between 5 and 10 chapters for this one. I'm gonna make a valiant attempt but of course, I said that about **_**Road**_** and that turned into a 35 chaptered beast and **_**Shattering**_**'s gonna be at least an 80 chaptered beast but…I like this AU very much so I'm gonna ride this wave like Liv rode Fitz last week, hard and without shame.**

**Disclaimer: "Honestly, it's not mine!"**

_**She walks in beauty, like the night **_

_** Of cloudless climes and starry skies; **_

_**And all that's best of dark and bright **_

_** Meet in her aspect and her eyes; **_

_**Thus mellowed to that tender light **_

_**Which heaven to gaudy day denies… **_

"I don't want to go in. I mean, I do because all my stuff's in there, including my bed, but…it's gonna be like the Spanish Inquisition, only with bitter sarcasm, mocking innuendos and cupcakes."

"Cupcakes?"

"If she's not searching for the meaning of life near David's tonsils or tactlessly calling folks out on their bullshit, Abby bakes like a gourmet chef. And I didn't come home last night or this morning. She'll have been worried so while she yells at me for making her worry and asks me all the dirty details about your schematics, I'll be eating cupcakes."

"I could come in with you if you want. Take some of the heat off…"

"I'm a big girl. I can handle it. Besides, this is still new and I want to you get used to me before I introduce you to my motley mad crew of Gladiators. Kiss?"

Drawing her close to him, Fitz granted her request, smiling against her mouth as she stood on her tiptoes to get closer. Her trench coat was belted over last night's outfit and her heels were in her right hand, knocking lightly against his back as she wrapped her arms around him. Her clutch slid from under her arm and landed on the welcome mat with a dull thump. After a few minutes, he reluctantly drew her away from him and watched as she came back to her senses. Her loosely shut eyes opened to half mast and her lips were parted, her expression a potent blend of thrall and arousal. With a visible tremor, she braced her hands on his shoulders and gave him a firm shove backward before leaning heavily against the screen door.

_**One shade the more, one ray the less, **_

_** Had half impaired the nameless grace **_

_**Which waves in every raven tress, **_

_**Or softly lightens o'er her face; **_

_**Where thoughts serenely sweet express, **_

_** How pure, how dear their dwelling-place…**_

"I…I'm gonna go in, now because if I don't, we're gonna end up naked in the grass and while I am rather proud of myself for lassoing me a nice sexy Senator's son…"

He looked away from her with pink cheeks and she made a soft noise of exasperation even as she smiled.

"See, now that's just not fair. You can't be all humble and adorable, too! That's bullshit! Anyway, public lewdness charges are a raging bitch to deal with so I'm getting away from you and taking a cold shower to calm the Beast. I'll call you tonight. Goodbye, Fitz.", she finished while opening the door to release the scent of baked goods.

"Bye, Livvie."

She stopped and turned back around, her head tilted thoughtfully.

"Livvie?", she inquired slowly.

"No good?"

"…_**very**_ good. Stick with that."

He waited until the front door closed behind her before heading back towards the House with a spring in his step. Fitz knew that he should be playing it cool, that he should be feeling some sort of smug exultation for getting laid last night, especially from someone known for her distance but he didn't. He felt…renewed and very protective of what he had shared with Olivia. His actions and words near Jake earlier proved that and he meant it when he said he would take up fisticuffs, if necessary. Olivia was obviously a strong and capable woman but he wanted to be there for her, anyway. He wanted to support, nurture, and protect.

The fact that she had shown him enough trust to touch her so intimately so soon after meeting, it was very humbling. It was like he had been knighted or that he had been appointed guardian over a precious treasure. Most of all, Fitz felt that he was worthy of someone, not because of his pedigree or his father's reputation but because he was just himself. The last thing he wanted was to mess it up.

Even though his mind was telling him to wait, to keep himself measured, his heart had already chosen to give scenarios of their relationship deepening, progressing into something tangible, something extraordinary…

Just like Olivia.

…_**And on that cheek, and o'er that brow, **_

_**So soft, so calm, yet eloquent, **_

_**The smiles that win, the tints that glow, **_

_**But tell of days in goodness spent, **_

_**A mind at peace with all below, **_

_**A heart whose love is innocent!**_

_**/**_

She could still feel the ghost of his touch as she ran the loofah gently over her body.

In the past, Olivia had always looked askance at a girl when she said that her lover 'turned her out' or when Abby waxed raunchy poetic about David's skills, claiming that she could still feel him on her long after they were done. Don't get her wrong, she knew that good sex was possible and had even experienced it before she met Edison Davis but she just couldn't imagine having someone have that sort of effect on her body, on her emotions…

She knew better, now. Fitz had shaken up her paradigm. He had been so tender, so urgent, so _**giving **_with his attentions. To him, foreplay wasn't a chore to be rushed, it was an art to savor. He wanted to kiss. He wanted to lick. He wanted to play. He wanted to cuddle. He wanted to stroke and tease and he was unafraid to take instruction. In fact, it seemed to get him off. Hell, just about everything she did to him, whether was a touch or just a simple look in his eyes got him off and it made her wonder what kind of girls he had been with before, not in a jealous way (after all, she just met the man…) but in a disgusted curiosity. He was experienced but he treated her attentions like something sacred. He still had a virgin's enthusiasm and was…shy. Once they were in action, he was anything but shy but he was hesitant in initiating things and when she had made it clear that she wanted more from him, she could've sworn she heard him murmur 'wow' under his breath, genuinely grateful and amazed as he obediently pulled her to him for another round…

It was all just a big, stinking 'what the _**fuck**_' to her.

Were the California blueblood girls frigid or just plain stupid? Fitz was a very warm, very attractive sexual creature made of the stuff of purple prose at times. He was intelligent, financially stable, driven, and for intents and purposes, sane. He was eager to take care of a woman so why weren't they eager to take care of him in response? Sex was supposed to be a dialogue, not a monologue and it was supposed to be worth the vulnerability, which was why she had decided to forgo it after ending it with Edison. He hadn't been worth it, not even a little bit. He had barely tried to see her as more than a means to an end, a hole to come in when he felt like it. And then, he had the audacity to frequently imply that he was doing her a favor by even touching her, that if she would just 'take her head out of the books and the clouds', she wouldn't be so discontent, never once considering that it was his fucking fault…

Apparently, such disconnects and contents were a lot more common than she thought and went on both sides of the gender street. Hmm. Who knew?

Rinsing off one last time, she cut the water and stepped out onto the black and blue checkered mat, looking in full the mirror mounted on the wall next to the sink. At first glance, she looked like the same old Poindexter Pope, pretty but easily forgotten unless she was in Apolitical Assassin Mode. But looking closer, she spotted a more confident stance to her, her head raised and her eyes bright. Idly, she stroked the bite left behind from her lover and skimmed over the faint fingertip bruises on the flare of her hips. She piled up her damp hair and left it fall, putting a rather impressive 'come hither, baby' look on her face, one worthy of one of Abby's numerous glossy magazines.

_It's not just about looking good. It's also about __**feeling**__ good. You, Ms. Pope actually feel good, not just because of your new sexy boyfriend but because you were brave last night. Brave under duress but brave all the same…_

Logically, she knew that her actions would have repercussions, that life had a way of bringing bad to go with the good but for now, she was going to dry off, put on her favorite pajamas, face the firing squad of her friends (who were waiting ever so patiently downstairs), and revel in her newly found confident glory.

She was looking forward to calling him…

_**/**_

"_Jesus, I've seen less thirsty folks during a strip club happy hour. He's been after her since he showed up on campus last year and he's gotten nowhere. Of course, Edison Davis says that's a good thing. Apparently, she's cold as ice in the sack…"_

"_Oh, __**puh-leeze**__. I dated him after Poindexter cut him loose. If she was cold, then he locked her in the damned freezer to begin with. Stupid fucker couldn't find a clit even if you drew him a glow in the dark map and gave him 5 speed vibe. Anyway, I feel you. Balllard's a fucking creep and I hope she maces him blind before he pulls some dark alley, ID Discovery shit on her or someone else."_

"_You think he's that bad? He seems so nice…"_

"_Honey, there's a reason why the saying 'wolf in sheep's clothing' exists to this day and I'm tellin' ya, he's a prime example. I feel it in my bones and I'm not alone. Stay away from him and if he ever comes for you, run far and fast like Poindexter's been doing. That dude ain't right…"_

* * *

As soon as Ballard came onto the basketball court, Fitz's awareness sharpened. There was also a sense of anticipation in the air, one of unspoken anger and tension on the other man's part. After returning to the House (and suffering through the guys' commentary to a point), he had looked for Intel on Olivia's unwanted suitor. Born in Des Moine, IO to a two parent household, only child to a 3rd grade schoolteacher and tractor mechanic, decent grades. Decent enough for a few local scholarships after placing 5th in his high school class. He had gone into military service through the Air Force where he had served two tours in Iraq as a support pilot. No criminal record…by all accounts, he was a decent, average Joe looking to make his place in the world. Nothing wrong with that at all…

"_Hey, Fitz. You up for a little one on one?"_

It had started as an innocent game, simply two guys getting a workout in but as time progressed, as Fitz kept landing his shots (including his cultivated half court jump-shot), Ballard seemed to become agitated, more so as they started drawing a crowd. Then, there had been a tingle on the back of his neck as he took a Gatorade break and that had prompted a glance towards the open gate, to confirm what his body was telling him.

She had on a harvest gold v-neck top with white and pink butterflies of various sizes ascending diagonally from right hip to left breast. Dark green cargo pants were held up by a sparkly clear thin belt and black Reeboks with pink detail were on her feet. She had straightened her hair and it was flipped upwards at the bangs, merging into the rest of the black silk that brushed her shoulders. Her glasses were off again but this time, she only had lipstick on, the same from last night. Giving him a shy finger wave, she leaned against the gate to wait for them to finish up.

"Next shot's game point.", Ballard informed him while using the hem of his gray t-shirt to wipe sweat off his brow.

"Okay."

Ballard was practically on top of him and his focus was more on a now frowning Olivia than the game. He was trying to delay the end of the game and he was trying to impress his Livvie, which stuck deep in Fitz's craw. Having finally had enough, he jammed his elbow back hard into the other man's sternum and turned to shoot. The wind was abruptly taken out of his lungs as Ballard shoved himself hard into his side and Fitz hit the court with a loud bang, the ball hitting the rim before going in anyway. As he tried to get his bearings (and hold on with both hands to the last restraints on his temper), he was surprised to hear the 'boo'ing of the crowd become exclamations of shock as Ballard hit the court on his ass with a louder bang.

Olivia was trembling with rage and swiftly advancing on the now wide eyed, fearful man, an advance Fitz quickly stopped by catching her around the waist as she lunged for Ballard's neck. Fitz's brows kissed his hairline as she honest to God snarled in protest and he squeezed her, lifting her off the court to make it more difficult for her to break the hold. She bicycled her legs and he lifted her higher until she stilled, breathing hard. Slowly, he eased her back to the ground and to his left keeping a gentle yet firm hold on her left tricep.

"Let me go, Fitz.", she demanded with lethal calm.

"It was just a foul, Olivia. It's part of the game…"

" I know basketball and the only thing foul around here is the excuse of a man you were playing with. Let me go. I won't hit him again."

"Are you sure?", he asked skeptically.

"**Fitzgerald**."

His sense of self preservation kicked in and he released her, watching as a slightly smug Jake watched her approach, the fear swiftly forgotten.

Idiot.

"It was just a foul, Olivia. It really wasn't a big deal."

"Maybe to you. Jake, you need to stop. You need to let go of whatever attachment you think you have to me because I've made it clear that I do not want you. I have from the first time you asked me out after Professor Whitley gave our grades back to last night when you kept trying to dance and grind on me."

"And yet you have no problem letting _**him **_doing it?! You barely knew his name and you let him…"

"The last time I checked, you were not an old white Republican man on Capital Hill and like them, you've got no business trying to police who and what I do with my body. I met Fitz last night. I danced with Fitz last night. I slept with Fitz last night and this morning. Why? Because I wanted to. Because I'm attracted to him. Because he actually respects the fact that I'm a grown woman with a fully functioning brain. You and Edison Davis just really need to hang out because you've got the same 'nice guy' savior complexes going on. Newsflash, asshole: you're not entitled to anything just because you show common decency to a member of the opposite sex and **I do not need saving.** I am just fine."

"He's a Senator's son. His father's a disgusting pig and a user. He'll end up treating you just his dad treated his mother and all the women he bent over his desk!"

"And even if he does, which I doubt, I still don't want you! It's never been you and it will never be you! _**Leave me alone!**_"

Fitz stepped in front of her protectively as Jake's facade cracked and showed a glimpse of dark intent before he threw his hands up and stormed off, the crowd dissipating since there was no more drama to behold.

"Damn it. Fitz, I…look, if you want to end things…"

"Hell no, I don't. I meant what I said this morning, Olivia. Did you?"

"Yes, but…"

"But, nothing. It's not your fault that Ballard's an idiot who won't take a hint. That's his problem, not ours. If we're going to be together, then we need to stand our grounds against and through the bullshit and trust me, there will be more bullshit to come. My father's already on the warpath against me for breaking things off with my ex. Once he finds out I've moved on…"

"I think he might a little too busy dodging the Feds, the IRS, and the ethics committees to cause some mayhem against us."

"You'd be surprised, Livvie."

* * *

**Poem Source**

"**She Walks in Beauty" written by Lord Byron in 1814.**


	3. Chapter 3

**Author's Note: Hey, everyone. Just as a heads up: my laptop is literally falling apart in my hands. It's being held together by half a roll of duct tape and sheer stubbornness. Since it's getting into the thick of discount and layaway season, replacing Calliope should be relatively easy so if I suddenly go off the grid here and on Tumblr, I'm alive but my computer finally bit the dust. **

**While I initially side-eyed the whole idea of bringing Liv's dad into the SCANDAL-verse (especially since he was the cherry on top to the S2 fuckery I've frequently referred to as The-Finale-That-Must-Not-Be-Named), I've grown to have a love to hate bond with Eli/Rowan Pope and while I'm probably not going to have him as the Big Bad Puppeteer, the dynamic between him and Olivia is just too good not to address in fic, not to mention the dynamic between Fitz and Big Jerry. My precious k'nuckleheads have got some Daddy Issues with a capital D-I and I want to get in depth on those , not only in this fic but in the ones to come later on.**

**Disclaimer: "Honestly, it's not mine!"**

"…_you wouldn't need to look for roommates if you weren't so stubborn."_

"_How am I being stubborn by wanting to take care of myself?"_

"_Olivia, believe it or not, I do love you."_

"_I __**don't**__ believe it. I stopped believing it and anything else you say to me a long time ago."_

"…_I'm sorry you feel that way, Livvie. I truly am."_

"_With everything else you've got going on, I'm sure that any guilt you feel about the state of our relationship will be long forgotten and discarded soon. Like 3 weeks, maybe. That's all it took for you to get over the death of your wife and to send your only child away like an item you sold on eBay."_

"_**You have no idea what you're talking about, Olivia!**__"_

"_Probably, probably not. I'm not looking for clarification either way, anymore. I'm calling you to tell you to stop sending the checks because they're just going to be sent right back to you in shreds. When I needed you, you weren't around. You couldn't even be bothered to pay for my schooling. The trusts from Mom's family took care of it. I was all alone. I was grieving and you were nowhere to be seen. I ended up being raised by my instructors and by myself. Now that I don't need you, now that I'm grown and you don't have to raise me anymore, you think that you can just waltz in and act like a father, now? No. Absolutely not. I will get on a pole, I will get on a corner, I will get on my knees underneath a politician's desk before I take money from you. Or anything else, for that matter. If I ever want to see you, I will initiate the contact and when you are eventually on your deathbed, I will show up and do my utmost not to pull the plug until the last possible second. Other than that, we are done, Eli. Goodbye."_

"_Olivia?__** Olivia, do not hang up the-**__"_

* * *

_**Hush-a-bye, don't you cry,  
Go to sleepy little baby.  
When you wake, you'll have cake,  
And all the pretty little horses…**_

Eli knew that she would be there. November 20th was the anniversary of Maya Lewis' death. The only other days she came were on September 4th and on January 31st, her mother's birthday and hers respectively.

"_Hi, Momma._"

Piling the leaves into a makeshift cushion, Olivia gently placed the bouquet of pink roses in front of the large black granite gravestone. Her hair was back in its usual braided twist and her glasses were slightly askew, reminding him of how she used to do her homework at the kitchen counter. Her taupe trenchcoat was removed and she sat on top of it, the hem of her black godet skirt shifting in the breeze, revealing purple leather flats. Rolling up the sleeves of her midsleeved white top, she pulled out a can of stone polish and a soft rag before getting to work.

"_I've been doing all right. My sports physicals came back clean. The Docs say that I'm a little underweight but Abby will take care of that real quick. She's already busting out the holiday recipes and I've been like a flip top head. My grades are rock solid and Professor Beene's made me the Captain of the Debate team. Apparently, making the opposition and their coach cry without raising one's voice or using swear words automatically means leader in his eyes. We'll be heading out West to face off with UCSB next month…"_

_**Black and bay, dapple and grey,  
Coach and six little horses,  
Hush-a-bye, don't you cry, Go to sleepy little baby.  
Hush-a-bye, don't you cry…**_

The fact that he was reduced to using recordings via hidden equipment in cheap teddy bears to know about what was going on in his daughter's life was chafing. His contacts kept tabs on her, of course but he wanted to know from her own point of view, hear it in her own words. She had changed her numbers and since he didn't have a non-professional email account, that line of communication wasn't an option. Eli knew that establishing one would be simple but it was bad enough being ignored over the phone lines, hearing the venom and ice in her tone. Seeing it in the printed word would be unacceptable…and provoking.

"_Dad and I still aren't speaking. I know that you wouldn't want it that way but, honestly? I think the only thing that held us together was you and when you were gone, we just fell apart. Of course, neither one of us really tried but I was 12. A 12 year old can only do so much to bridge a gap. And then after he sent me away and kept me away…I know that his doing so enabled me to get the best education out there and to travel but I really needed a father. I would've been perfectly content in a public school and never leaving the DC Metro area if it meant that I had a father that actually acted like one. One that would listen and try to understand. One that I could come to for help with math homework and would teach me how to hit where it hurts the most after the boys started coming around…_"

_**Way down yonder, down in the meadow,  
There's a poor wee little lamby.  
The bees and the butterflies pickin' at its eyes,  
The poor wee thing cried for her mammy…**_

She wiped at her eyes and let out a watery chuckle as a small smile lit up her face.

"…_you know I've got a new boyfriend, now? Yeah, um…his name is Fitzgerald. Everyone calls him Fitz and he's a Senator's son. You and Dad probably would've known his dad. Big Jerry Grant wasn't exactly a wilting wallflower back in the day. He is now, though. He's in __**big**__ trouble and I hope Fitz doesn't get taken out in the endgame blast because he…he's a good man, Momma. Like genuinely good. He's warm and he's gentle and he listens without being critical. And he is so damned fine. He makes those suckers on the magazines look like little boys playing dress up. Now, he's not perfect because he's human and 25 and oh my God, you would be amazed at how stupid he can be sometimes. He's a Rhodes Scholar but sometimes, I swear he's brain dead, especially when he teams up with Huck, David and Harrison. Those four…when they get a big idea, it's like one-half of an idiot hooks up with another half of an idiot and they make one-fourth altogether…_"

As she got into a story, Eli let his mind go to the Grant boy. He was the only child of Fitzgerald Grant Jr. and Ellen Neiderman-Grant. While the Grant family could be termed 'new money', the Neidermans had been around since Reconstruction with deep abolitionist and liberal roots down to the present day. Fitzgerald III was supposed to follow in his father's footsteps as a politician with an eye on the Oval and had been on track until the recent months. He had severed his engagement to Millicent Vaughn, publicly admitting to having been cheated on (without completely destroying the girl…) and according to his old friend Cyrus, was at the root of the _**Dante's Inferno**_ raging in Big Jerry's life. He had unleashed the Hounds of Hell on his own father and by the looks of things, was relishing the media carnage. It had been a shock to all of them. The boy had been deemed intelligent yet pliable long ago, a mere extension of Big Jerry's will from stem to stern but obviously, he had been holding back, hiding his true potential until the right time and push came….

"…_I'll come back soon, Momma. I…I love you to Saturn and back._"

The footage ended with Olivia gently hugging the gravestone and Eli shut off the television, slumping heavily into his office chair. His daughter was a complicated, multifaceted individual, both strong and weak. She threw her identity into her studies and her work yet she still was capable of making tangible connections with people. There was still humanity in her, an element that Eli himself knew he had lost many years ago, even before Maya's plane went down.

Although sometimes his actions didn't reflect it and although she was determined to believe otherwise, Eli did love his daughter dearly.

And he was proud of her.

…_**Hush-a-bye, don't you cry,  
Go to sleepy little baby.  
When you wake, you'll have cake,  
And all the pretty little horses.**_

_**/**_

_**Skeletons in your closet  
Itchin' to come outside  
Messin' with your conscience  
In a way your face can't hide…**_

"You know what, Cyrus? I'd only be shocked if Tripp _**didn't**_ have anything to do with all of this. I just always thought that the boy would wait until I was dead, that he'd still have an ounce of respect and gratitude in that fucking brain of his. But, no. _**No!**_ I'm the bad guy! I'm the monster who breaks everyone's bleeding hearts and deserves every fucking thing I get, apparently! Did he even hesitate in owning up to it?"

"No. He was very forthcoming."

With a disgusted huff, Big Jerry poured himself another glass of scotch and blew the smoke of his cigar out of his mouth. Since his son was obviously not going to come to California, he had decided to come to DC and Georgetown for a visit. Any positive optics he could generate would be good, even if it's just dinner with his boy. Unfortunately, Tripp was off campus and out of contact. If he had to guess, he was probably holed up with his new chocolate bunny, sweating out his jungle fever. The fact that he was rebounding with a black girl wasn't that shocking, either. Growing up, the boy had long standing crushes on folks like Pam Grier, Lena Horne, Gladys Knight, that one fashion disaster dreadlocked girl from _**The Cosby Show**_…he'd leave him to it. At least one of them was having a good time nowadays…

"What's his endgame? What the fuck does he want from me?", he asked with weary confusion.

"Jerry, he just wants you to leave him alone. You've been pulling strings all his life and it's gone nowhere. He doesn't want to go into politics. He doesn't want to marry some DAR blueblood little ice princess and he's figured out the obvious. You're all bark and no bite without your political reputation so he's destroying it to shut you down permanently. If I were you, I'd lay low and then choke down some humble pie so you don't end up marinating in your own filth in a roach ridden nursing home in a couple of years.", Cyrus speculated bluntly while preparing his own cigar.

…_**Oh things are gettin' real crucial  
Up the old wazoo  
Yet you cry, why am I the victim?  
When the culprit's y-o-u**_

**_What did your mama tell you about lies_**  
**_She said it wasn't polite to tell a white one_**  
**_What did your daddy tell you about lies_**  
**_He said one white one turns into a black one…_**

Shaking his head, Jerry took a long pull of his alcohol and leaned back in his seat. Cyrus Beene was one of the very few people left in his network. As soon as the first woman's in depth interview came on, his support dried up like the waters of Babylon. The Ranch and his offices had been raided, whole file cabinets taken, along with his office computer and personal laptop. He knew that they would find what they were looking for. Although things were buried deep, his wife's family were a bunch of determined blueblood fucks who blamed him for their daughter's 'depression' and 'distance'. They also blamed him for their lack of relationship with Tripp, the lack of their input in his upbringing…it had been for a reason! A good reason! If they had just stayed in their place and Tripp hadn't been so damned stubborn, so fucking naïve and idealistic…

_**It's gettin' ready to turn  
We're gettin' ready to learn  
Somebody done fired up the brimstone  
And you're gettin' ready to burn…**_

"All these years I called him soft but the boy's just as ruthless as I am. I'd be proud if he wasn't tearing my throat out with his teeth, the teeth that I spent thousands on to get fixed. He looked like a fucking squirrel! A gangly, acne ridden squirrel with a rat's nest on his head! He got all of that from his mother…"

"I remember Ellen being a knockout, Jerry."

"She was! She really was but she always said that Neidermans had to grow into their looks and other than the eyes and nose, Tripp's all her. God, I can only imagine what she'd say to me if she were alive right now. She was always protective of the boy and I know she'd be on his side. Shit, she probably would've helped him because _**her**_, I really did fuck over. I'll own what I did to her straight to Hell…"

_**It's gettin' ready to shake  
You're gettin' ready to ache  
Somebody done snitched to the news crew  
And it's gettin' ready to break…**_

Other than physical looks, their son had also inherited Ellen's temperament. She had her moments of strength and dragon slaying but overall, Ellen had been sweet as pie, radiating warmth and actively avoiding conflict. It made for a good wife but it was pure poison for a politician, which is why he had been so determined to toughen Tripp up. He'd never last being a bleeding heart. He'd be taken advantage of or quickly assassinated to make room for a real leader.

But, like his mother, the boy just couldn't change at the Core and instead of eventually destroying himself, the boy had managed to use what he had to get what he wanted: revenge against his 'fucking piece of shit drunk bastard' of a father and the freedom to squander his true potential any way he wanted to.

It was actually pretty funny when he thought about it. The one person he thought would never turn on him, that he thought he had firm control over now had the power to make or break him. And for the time being, it seemed that the latter option was in full gear.

He was proud of his boy. Angry as all get out at him for starting the fire but…proud.

There was hope for him yet.

"If you don't mind, Cyrus, I think I'll be staying the night here. After all, you've got a good sized TV and if I'm going to see the next contestant on the 'Who Got Fucked Over By Big Jerry Grant The Most?'pageant, I want to see it in style."

…_**You're gettin' ready to lie  
They're gettin' ready to spy  
Somebody's been put on the hot seat  
And you're gettin' ready to fry!**_

_**/**_

"Would you like some tea? I'm about to have some."

"…_**you're**_ Olivia Pope? You're the girl that Fitzgerald has been seeing?"

"I'm 23, not 13 so if you could drop the 'girl' thing and speak to me like an equal, I'd appreciate it. Everyone around here calls me Poindexter and yes, he's been seeing me. And touching me and kissing me and licking me. And biting me. He really likes to bite a lot. Of course, I'm not telling you anything new about him, am I? After all, you two were engaged…"

_**Your loss is my gain  
Your temper and my restrain  
Made him come come running to me  
Coz you were to blind to see  
The pain you caused him  
With the lies you told  
Now he treats me as precious as gold…**_

One of the guys (Wes Masters of Miami, FL…) had intercepted her on the way back from the bathroom, informing her that Fitz's ex was downstairs and demanding to see him. They had closed ranks when Big Jerry showed up that early morning, keeping them both upstairs and using the same 'dude-bro' mentality the old man still had to send him on a wild goose chase, if he were so inclined. There were tens of thousands of hotel rooms around town, not to mention B&Bs and rooms with doors that locked. If Big Jerry wanted to waste his time and resources hunting down his son for a Hail Mary photo Op, he could. Unfortunately, Ms. Vaughn was made of sterner stuff. She had crossed over to greener pastures, only to find that things weren't as rosy and now, she wanted back in Fitz's life.

That wasn't happening.

Accepting the news with a cool incline of her head, she had walked back into Fitz's room and saw him sitting up in bed, looking very pensive and quite indignant. Holding a finger to her lips, she shucked off her robe and matter of factly pulled one of his old soccer jerseys over her head. Although the red was starting to fade, the blue lettering and number was in good condition. Pulling a pair of clean underwear from her overnight bag (a pair of lacy cheeky boyshorts that matched the lettering), she shot him a 'I got this' look before putting an extra confident sway to her determined stride forward.

All eyes went to her as she got to the bottom of the stairs but she kept cool, idly collecting Fitz's mail from his assigned slot and blatantly flashing the 'GRANT #1' that took up the back of the shirt, humming a random tune under her breath as she checked her phone for missed messages.

_**So don't be hating on me  
just 'cuz you couldn't see  
The child inside  
the boy longing to be hugged and loved…**_

Olivia had then made her way into the kitchen and once Millicent followed, she slid the large french doors shut, separating them from prying eyes via the frosted glass. The other woman's shock was rapidly being replaced with anger but Olivia let it roll off of her back like water to a duck.

"Do you want some tea or not, Millicent? There's plenty of water.", she offered pleasantly while pouring steaming water into her loose green tea blend.

"Please call me Mellie. I don't want any tea. I want to see Fitzgerald. Where is he?"

"Sleeping, _**Millicent**_. He had a spirit killing exam in Professor Jones' microeconomics class yesterday and with every wonderful thing he did to me last night...trust me, he's definitely earned the right to sleep in. So, you're either going to deal with me before leaving or you're going to walk out now because from what I've pieced together and from what he's told me, I know that he doesn't want to see you ever again. I know that like I know 2 plus 2 equals 4."

_**Now in his arms I lie  
And on my lips I feel his kiss  
Just a few things that you're gonna miss  
Coz you didn't treat him right  
Now he's mine…**_

Millicent, Mellie, or whatever she responded to hadn't broken his heart. In order for a person to break a heart, the heart has to be opened and given willingly. But, she had hurt him. The hesitancy that Fitz showed in the bedroom also extended to other parts of their relationship. She usually initiated contact with him and she had to reassure him in action and in words that his presence was welcome, that she wanted to hear about his day, his opinions, and that she wanted him to touch her. Fitz was very tactile but used to being rebuffed, holding himself back, which she was all too familiar with.

Olivia had been a tactile person before her mother died. However, after Maya's plane went down and the shuttling from place to place started, she had started to shy away from touch and from people in general. It had taken years to open up again. But, she had done it and as soon as Fitz realized it was okay, she kept herself in arm's reach.

She particularly enjoyed his hugs. They made her feel safe…

"Olivia, you seem to be a nice, intelligent woman so I just want to level with you…"

"This should be good."

"Even though you've got his attention and maybe even his heart now, I'm his endgame. Our fathers want us together. We're good partners and it's…"

"**Pathetic.** You are absolutely pathetic. You flew over 2000 miles to get a man back that you threw away like trash and for what? To make your daddy happy? What's the matter? Did he threaten to cut you off? Did the guys you cheated on Fitz with realize just how manipulative and dead and frigid you are at the core and run for their lives?"

"I…you don't have right to speak to me like that! You know nothing about me!", she protested with flushed cheeks and guilty eyes.

"And I don't want to. I don't want anything to do with you and neither does Fitz. The sooner you accept that and go back to whatever country club, blueblood filled swimming pool you climbed out of, the better off you'll be."

_**Lightning anger on your face  
Because you've lost your place  
In his heart and in his home  
Now he's touching me not you  
Now he's loving me not you  
Coz of the doubt you felt  
And the ice in you he couldn't melt  
you wouldn't let him into your heart…**_

"Fitzgerald and I have history that you'll never understand, that you'll never be able to touch. He'll always measure you up to me."

"And he will find you lacking. Whatever history you two have is in the past. This is the present and presently, Fitz is with me and content to be with me. Maybe we'll break up, maybe we'll stick together, only time and our actions towards each other will tell. And even if we do fall apart, he's not coming back to you and you have no leverage to make him. His father's power is crumbling and he hadn't slept with you in 7 months before you two broke up so if you try to pull off a pregnancy, everyone will know that it's not his. Millicent, I wish you well. I don't want anything bad to happen to you but you will stay away from him. You will leave him alone and let him be happy because that's what you do with people you care about. You let them be happy with their lives and decisions, even if there's nothing to be gained personally. Go back to California and stay away from him."

"And if I don't?"

A chilling smile curved her lips upward and Olivia was gratified to see a flash of terror in the other woman's crystalline periwinkle gaze.

"Then, not only will I make you regret the day your daddy betrothed you to Fitzgerald Thomas Grant III, I will also make you regret the day you were born. It's time for you to go now."

Firmly grasping the olive colored sleeve of the other woman's peacoat, Olivia slid the doors back open and chuckled as the Boys tried to act like they hadn't been eavesdropping.

"Cory, could you please open the door?"

Cory Gardener of Nashville, TN did so immediately, the gentle Nordic giant holding it as Millicent stepped through with her head up high, determined to save face.

"It was nice to meet you, Olivia.", she called as she descended the porch stairs.

"No, it wasn't!", she replied with the same faux sweetness before shutting the door with a firm bang.

"_**Damn**_, girl…", Kenneth Lawrence of Detroit, MI chuckled incredulously, his dreads falling into his eyes as he shook his head slowly.

"She annoyed me.", she replied unrepentantly, starting to climb the stairs back up to Fitz.

"Hey, Poindexter?", Trevor Andrews of Seattle, WA inquired, his British accent slightly slurred from a hangover.

"What's up, sweetie?"

"Does Fitz know about your whole Wednesday Addams, scary as fuck, humiliate you and your ancestors side?"

"He does…it turns him on. Later, boys."

…_**Now in his arms i lie  
And on my lips i feel his kiss  
just a few things that you're gonna miss  
Coz you didn't treat him right  
Now he's mine!**_

* * *

**Song Lyric Sources:**

"**All The Pretty Horses" aka "Hush-a-Bye" (Traditional American Lullaby- original source unknown)**

"**Skeletons" by Stevie Wonder (Characters)**

"**Now, He's Mine" by Mburu Stella (Album Unknown- Lyrics found on LyricsFreak)**


	4. Chapter 4

**Author's Note: Happy SCANDAL-ous Thursday, everyone! Our Kerry got a Golden Globe nomination! And a SAG one, too! Fuck, yes! I hope she wins them because she deserves it all. Whoo, boy… _so_ I totally went there with **_**Shattering **_**last week**** and folks are quite mad at me right now. Mm-hm. I pulled the CMW2 version of #whoshotFitz and made everyone (including myself) cry and rage and reopen those canon wounds because I'm evil and masochistic and just mean sometimes. Spoiler Alert: Fitz will be A-OK! I repeat, Fitz will be A-OK (I could never kill off my favorite k'nuckleheaded FAPOTUS) but in order to smooth things over a bit here and on Tumblr and to fulfill my Muses' demands for hot spice and lemon in the wake of the sub-zero temperatures in my area , here's some more **_**Loose**_** and Olitz awesomeness with chunks of plot within it for flavor.**

**Disclaimer: "Honestly, it's not mine!"**

"_Big weekend, huh?"_

_The question was quite rhetorical so Olivia continued to wait patiently at the deli counter. Words weren't necessary. Anyone looking in her WalMart cart would know what she was planning to do with her free time. She had picked up two new sets of undergarments, one red and one black and white, lacy and sheer in strategic places. There were bottles of body wash, massage oil, and her favorite lotion. A set of lavender and vanilla candles rested next to them, as well as two bottles of red wine. She had gathered the materials needed to make a traditional lasagna dinner and was waiting for the sharp cheddar and turkey so they could cook breakfast together._

_And if one was still confused, the large box of condoms next to the cartons of eggs said it all._

"_So, you're just going to ignore me, Olivia?", Edison Davis pressed, making her sigh and look at him over her square frames._

"_Given how civil and warm our last conversation was, are you really surprised that I would hesitate to talk to you, now?", she replied while heading back towards the Home Decor section._

_If this was going to go the way she thought it was, she didn't want to give the whole front of the store a show._

_The breakup between her and Edison had been a forgone conclusion after the first week of them getting together but Olivia had been determined to give him his 'chance'. He was the first person of the opposite sex to want her for her or so she thought at the time. In reality, he had wanted her 'potential'. She was pretty but 'didn't really put the effort she should into it'. She was smart but 'could be a little softer. Not that there was anything wrong with being intelligent but she could be off-putting.' Her introverted nature had become 'an excuse to keep him at arm's length' and 'determining how she felt was like pulling teeth'. Yet, when she tried to tell him, he wouldn't listen at all or he'd immediately go on the defensive, prompting an argument on his part and her withdrawing, unable and unwilling to try to reason with him. Still, when she had finally ended it that summer, he had been shocked, aghast even. _

_He had been expecting her to change who she was fundamentally to keep him and while Olivia knew that for a relationship to thrive, compromise was needed, it was supposed to be give and take between good people. Edison wasn't giving and she wasn't taking so it had to end before the both of them got hurt further. He was a good person. She was a good person. Together, they were just a big, incompatible mess. Ending it had been the best decision she had made regarding him. Actually, the best decision would've been listening to her Gut and not attaching herself to him in the first place but some lessons had to be learned the hard way…_

"…_**You'll never find someone else like me, Olivia! You won't do any better!"**_

_Logically, she knew that Edison was wrong and right. She wouldn't find someone like him because she would be actively avoiding them, hence her current actions with Jake Ballard. He was wrong because there were over 6 billion people on the planet and she knew that eventually, she would find a person who really wanted her for her. She would just have to find them or rather, let them find her. The blow that Edison's parting words had given to her self esteem had her deciding on the latter option while throwing herself deeper into her schoolwork. She had cultivated her friendships and had fallen into a comfortable groove with her unattached status,taking an 'it'll happen when it'll happen' stance on gaining a new companion._

_And it had paid off in spades._

"_I deserve that. I was hurt and I said some fucked up shit to try to hurt you, too."_

"_You did hurt me but it's okay. Being with you was a teachable moment for me."_

"_I heard that you and Fitz Grant were an item. I wasn't sure if it was true but I am now. I'm happy for you, Olivia."_

"_Edison, it's been a little over 2 years since we dated but I can still tell when you're being less than honest. Like a lot of people, you're not happy that I'm with Fitz at all. What's your reason? Mainly it's 'he can do better' but there's been some murmurings of the __**Guess Who's Coming To Dinner**__ and __**Holes**__, type, too."_

"_**Holes**__?"_

"_It's a very good children's book by Louis Sachar and one of the subplots was between a white woman and the black man she fell in love with in a time where interracial love was seen as a complete abomination. Is that how you feel?"_

"_What? __**No! **__Olivia, it's 2013…"_

"_And? That means nothing. Prejudice doesn't have an expiration date nor does diversity."_

"_That's __**not **__why I have a problem with you and Grant being together."_

"_So, you __**do**__ have a problem with it?"_

"_Yes, but not for the reasons you might think."_

"_I'll be the judge of that. Let's hear it."_

_Edison stared at her with the look of incredulous exasperation that had been common in the final weeks of their relationship and like before, she just looked at him neutrally. His eyes went over her form and she suppressed the urge to roll her eyes at the flash of desire that went over his features. She had on a red and black polka dotted top, dark gray slacks and a pair of white flats to match the cardigan she had put on to stave off the breeze. Abby had dragged her to the mall a few days before, wanting to get her some 'grown up' clothes and to ditch some of her close but no cigar looks. Olivia had to admit that the trip had been a good investment and the new look prompted people to take her even more seriously when she had to get things done for work or school... _

"_Edison, I have perishables that I need to pay for…"_

"_Olivia, how do you know that he won't hurt you? Look at how his father acted with his mother and all those other women! And he just got out of an engagement. He's on the rebound and I don't want to see you get burned by him. Just because he acts decent doesn't mean he is and…"_

"_**Stop. Talking.**__ Just shut up right now.", she demanded darkly.  
_

"_You asked for my opinion!"_

"_I did but that doesn't mean that I'm going to listen to you wax poetic about how I'm being manipulated by the big bad senator's son when it's not like that at all. One of the main reasons why we broke up is because you saw me as this sheltered, socially inept damsel that needed a big, strong man on his trusty steed to rescue her. I'm not. And you know nothing about who Fitz is or what we're about. He is not his father and I am **not** a rebound to him. I don't know how long we'll last but I do know that my relationship with Fitz is real and if he hurts me, if he leaves me like everyone's **so insistent** that he will, then I won't regret my time with him."_

"_You're setting yourself up for a big fall, Olivia. I hope you realize that…"_

"_And if I am, I certainly don't expect you or anyone else to pick me up and piece me back together. Good-bye, Edison. Have a good life.", she cut off bluntly, taking her leave._

_Just like the last time she said those words, she didn't look back but unlike the last time, Edison didn't have a parting shot for her. _

**_Good._**

* * *

He came after her slowly, his eyes heavily lidded and cobalt as she moved up the bed, her oil slicked hands running over her bare torso. The massage oil had been an impulse grab, a default item in her 'gettin' it kit', as Harrison had proudly dubbed her haul earlier. But, once the idea of giving a massage, of getting intimately slow and tender with the acres of lean muscle on her man's body settled fully into her brain, Olivia had decided to do it right. The time spent waiting for the lasagna to bake had been watching tutorials and referencing anatomy charts on the internet. She wanted it to be sensual yet healing and she definitely didn't want to hurt him.

Nothing would kill the mood faster than a pinched nerve.

After much deliberation, she had gone with the black and white set of undergarments and the look on his face when he saw her set her ablaze like the candles burning on the nightstands. Fitz was an open book with his emotions, easily read and understood. She had seen surprise, anticipation, and a very calm, near feral arousal. Once he was in reach, she had pulled him down to her and took the lead in undressing him, unwrapping and caressing him before urging him onto his stomach. The warmed oil had been uncapped and carefully poured on the center of his spine, her palms keeping it from running off onto the bedding.

The deep, guttural sound of relief at her initial touches, resulting in a massive knot near his tailbone to yield had her removing her bra. The warm tipsiness she had from the wine didn't compare to the feeling of him giving himself over to her, trusting her to tend to him while promising to do the same for her. The flames in her body were fanned as she did his front, his nude body moving with sensual need and want for her. Fitz's moans were constant and he stroked whatever skin he could reach, her hair, guiding her, praising her, urging her on…

"_Raise your hips for me, sweetheart…it's my turn, now_…"

Obliging him with a soft moan, Olivia shivered as the panties slid off, the damp fabric discarded carelessly towards their piled up clothing. His hands went into her hair, removing the pins and sending the freshly washed and fragrant mass to her shoulders. When she made to sit up fully, Fitz pushed her back with gentle force and she moaned as he brought her hands up to her headboard. She grabbed onto it and looked up at him with soft submission, silently urging him to touch her, to take the lead. She wanted him. God, she wanted him **_so much_**…

A breathless cry escaped her as the tip of his tongue touched her aching, dripping sex and he moaned against her, licking deep and slow into her.

_**/**_

Her flavor was absolutely enchanting, sweet and tangy, addicting to every sense he had. Olivia had put so much effort into their evening, so much care and warmth. She was serious about them. She had to be and the knowledge of that became his motivation. Fitz was going to make her feel like a goddess, like she was the only woman in the world…

Still devouring her, he grabbed the bottle of massage oil and she arched like a bow as he cupped her breasts, her hips grinding hard against his face. His slick hands ran over her thoroughly, gripping and squeezing tenderly as she quivered underneath him, her moans taking a sobbing tinge as her thighs tensed around him.

A surge of liquid heat gushed out of her and she screamed hard as she came, her hands moving away from the headboard and into his hair. Fitz groaned huskily and drank deeply, kissing and sucking as much of her as he could until she started to squirm away from him.

"…_oh, god…too much…Fitz, __**please**__…come up here…come here_…"

Heart pounding in his ears, he obeyed her and she hugged him to her, kissing him deeply. She was practically climbing him and Fitz held onto her, entering her pulsing channel with tender urgency. Her bent and spread legs wrapped around his waist and their lips parted with a loud pop, his face dropping into the space between her neck and shoulder. Both of them were moaning and she tugged at his earlobe with her teeth, cooing her contentment as he started to move inside her. His whole body was warm and loose, drunk from pleasure and from her open desire, her open tenderness.

"…_you feel so good…you fill me like you were made for me…made for each other…god, baby…take me, Fitz…__**love me**_…_love me, Fitz_…"

He already did.

God help him but he already did.

It was fast and they were young and it was such a huge risk but…

"…_yes, baby…god, __**yes!**_"

"_**Olivia!**_"


	5. Chapter 5

**Author's Note: Good morning. One of the main things I enjoy about the hiatuses we go through is that some in the Gladiator Arena step up their games and come up with some great gifs, fics, and commentary lines to keep everyone interested, inspired and the good kind of crazy. I appreciate everyone in the Arena who's sticking with my little scribbles and offerings. I watch the show mainly for the fandom now and I'm glad to be a part of the action and the warmth.**

**Let's keep the party going, shall we? An update for **_**Shattering**_** will be next.**

**Disclaimer: "Honestly, it's not mine!"**

"_Liv, don't jump down my throat for asking this but…are you sure you're okay with everything? I mean, you and Fitz are awesome and __**he's **__awesome, which coming from me says a lot since the whole spawn of a slutty, dirty Republican thing isn't going away, but…"_

"_We're making more progress in less than 6 months than some people who have been in relationships for years have. You're worried that we might be rushing things."_

"_Just a little."_

"_It's okay, Abby. Fitz isn't pushing me to do anything that I don't want to do and vice versa. We're just taking it a day at a time and doing what feels right and natural to us. Spending the break with him, especially since I'm going to be in town for the Debate, was a natural and right conclusion. Plus, he was quite…__**persuasive**__ in presenting closing arguments for his case."_

"_That's lawyer talk for 'he sexed you up and down until you would agree to anything', isn't it?"_

"_More like 'I had decided to do what he wanted anyway but if he wants to lick me dry and soaked all over again until I scream the dust off the rafters, I'm not gonna complain'. That man's tongue is an expert and passionate conductor's baton and I am his very loud and devoted orchestra."_

"_Oh, __**shit!**__"_

"_Revenge is icy sweet, Gingersnap! I know far more than I __**ever**__ wanted to know about David and the amateur, semi-public porn you two make so now, it's time for you to pay the piper! To a point. Some things are just ours and special…"_

"…_o-orchestra…__**b-baton**__…holy…guh…"_

"_Your face is almost as red as your hair, Abigail. And you sound like one of the hyenas from __**The Lion King**__."_

"_Shut the fuck up, you nasty nerdy bitch! Thank God I wasn't swallowing anything…"_

"_And while we're on the subject of swallowing…"_

* * *

"Aren't you going to introduce me, son? I mean, since you two have obviously made yourselves comfortable…", a deep voice cut through their hot haze, sounding amused in an artificial way.

Looking over her shoulder, Olivia met the cold, evaluating gaze of Big Jerry Grant. Her hips were still moving slowly, the low creaking of the mattress amplified in the cave like acoustics of Fitz's bedroom. Her hands were braced firmly on his shoulders, preventing him from moving her off of him and she purposely clenched her inner walls around him to keep him hard, to keep him focused on who and what was relevant. Both of them were panting softly and holding the older Grant's gaze defiantly, she did a lazy full body ripple to make Fitz's head go back with a thump against his pillows. The cranberry and beige bedding shrouded their lower halves but anyone who bothered to look could see her hips begin to pick up speed again. Big Jerry's eyes went slowly down to the motion and then back to hers judgmentally.

"_Close the doors_.", she ordered calmly as Fitz sat up and kissed her neck, his hips tentatively meeting hers halfway again since she made it abundantly clear that she wasn't going to stop, not until the both of them were sated.

"Go_…__**away!**_", Fitz snarled at his father before putting her firmly underneath him, his body bunching with protective possessiveness after the doors slammed firmly behind the man.

While Fitz was an open book with her, his father was a raw subject, something that she was all too familiar with. As the Scandals ebbed and flowed over the now former Senator, questions about the dynamic between father and son had become the main source of nutrients for the talking heads. True to his words to Cyrus, Fitz hadn't said a word in support or dissent against his father. Instead, he focused his energies on his schooling (which was right on track) and on his growing, deepening, layered relationship with her. Still, he had confided in her. First of all, he was at the root at the firestorm against the older Grant, which had genuinely surprised her. Fitz had deep strength and intelligence but she had thought that he wouldn't have the stomach for the type of string pulling this sort of whistleblowing required, especially against blood.

Like hers, his childhood had been one of financial privilege but his father's absent ways were different, much worse than Eli's. The man had been around but as little more than a source of criticism. Nothing Fitz did was good enough. Nothing he was interested in was relevant. There was a Plan to follow, a Political Dynasty to maintain, and he was going to do everything and anything he was told to make it happen. He was going to be the first of many Grants in 1600 Penn and Big Jerry would use his power and influence to make it happen. From the choice of classes to the choice of women, up until Millicent's deviousness, Big Jerry had firm control over him. At least with Eli, he knew (even if he didn't like it…) that he had absolutely no right to criticize or take credit for anything she did. He had lost that right long ago and Olivia would not be giving it back to him, no matter how hard he pushed for it. He could give his opinions but other than that, he stayed in his lane. Big Jerry had no concept of that idea, determined to have his way, regardless of his son's feelings. To him, Fitz was nothing more than a spineless weakling, a Golden Goose with no other purpose but to lay eggs on demand.

But, the Golden Goose had flown free from its gilded cage and Olivia knew that he would rather die than go back to the 'acceptable' Path his father wanted. He was protective over his autonomy, protective over the option of saying 'No' and the option and primal right he had to choose who he wanted close and who he wanted far away. He wanted Big Jerry far away and the best way to keep him far away was to destroy the only things that meant the most to him: his career, his reputation, and his finances.

Olivia would never underestimate what he was capable of ever again…she'd never cross him if she could help it...

As Fitz rose up on his forearms, still looking agitated, she tilted his head to make him look and listen, pressing soothing kisses to his lips and cheeks.

"He doesn't matter. He doesn't get a say. I've never been ashamed of you or us before and I'm not going to start now. Besides, it serves him right. We're not very quiet and sex has a distinct rhythm to it, a smell. He came in here knowing what he'd see and he's trying to throw you off balance. _**Don't**_ let him_._", she urged him firmly.

His hips ground and swiveled against her slowly, one of his warm strong hands cupped her left thigh. Nodding in agreement, Fitz moved inside her deeply, reigniting the fiery butterflies in her stomach…

_**/**_

The hall where the Debate was being held was packed to the gills but he had been able to get a good seat. His son's chocolate bunny was sitting with the rest of the team, completely serene amongst the fidgeting young babies. She had come down to the main kitchen in a raspberry red short sleeved blouse, a steel gray circle skirt, and snow white heels in her hand that matched her nails and the small white flower she had put in her unstraightened hair. She had greeted him pleasantly and made small talk while decimating a hearty breakfast sandwich, apparently unconcerned about the fact that he had seen her fucking his son.

And she had been fucking him good. He had heard them before he got to the ajar doors, seen her manhandle him firmly underneath her and take control…his son was a lucky SOB, in more ways than one.

The media had yet to out him as the Source and it was apparent that they weren't going to. The Scandal had taken a life its own, fueled by all elements of the media. The political talking heads saw him as a cautionary tale. The nuts like Jon Stewart kept the people rolling in the aisles, not to mention the late night TV people and the stand up comics. The Republican Party quickly had washed his hands of him and he had stepped down as the Senator before he was forced out. The possibilities of trials and settlements still loomed, handled mainly by the best legal defense team he could put together but Tripp…Tripp was above board. Besides, who gave a fuck about the source in the end? What mattered was the Story, the Scandal, and the fate of the person involved. For the first time in decades, Big Jerry was utterly unsure of his personal endgame and that was jarring…and terrifying.

"It's good to see you, Jerry but I never thought that college debates would be your scene."

"I'm just trying to figure out who to vote for in the future. That is, if I'm not on a chain gang someplace."

Cyrus chuckled and sat down next to him, holding a program. Olivia Pope was on the top of the roster list from Georgetown and some of her debate showings were on social media. Watching them, Jerry heard Eli Pope's fire and Maya Lewis' ice. The girl was staunchly apolitical, preferring to look at politicians at all angles and policies from all sides. She had a knack for cutting straight to the quick and would dismantle a person's arguments methodically until they were flip flopping or giving in entirely. At the end of each successful Debate, the only reaction she would give would be a small nod and a small smile. In the rare times she lost, she still smiled and made a point to keep her head up high, shaking each hand and waiting to be released, waiting so she could find her weak points and improve.

She'd be a hell of a politician or better yet, an adviser, someone who worked behind the scenes to keep things on track, someone who fortified a leader…

Tripp had chosen well.

_**/**_

"Livvie?"

Her whole face lit up and Fitz let out a surprised huff of laughter as she nearly sent him to the floor in a greeting hug. Holding her to him, he pressed a soft kiss to her temple and her sigh had a dreamy quality to it as they headed out the side exit and into the sunny early afternoon.

"I was _**so **_nervous up there. I thought I was gonna throw up mid point a couple of times."

"You were amazing, Liv. You blew them all out of the water."

The Debate had been on the portrayal of race in the media, focusing on sexual agency and on women of color. She had spoken candidly but respectfully, keeping level but showing so much fire and zeal and _**passion**_…so much passion! It had taken all of his self control not to get up and pounce on her.

"I was…the topics they picked are just so relevant and they mean so much to me personally, I didn't want to say the wrong thing at the wrong time or just completely cuss out that 50s throwback, blonde bubblegum popper and…I'm rambling, aren't I?"

Only a little but it was refreshing. All his life, he had been surrounded by people that kept every little thought in check. Every action had a reason, every word was a weapon to be wielded. There was a hollowness to interactions, a level of fakery that rankled. Hearing and seeing Olivia express herself freely, regardless of how others may precieve her was a dose of messy, organic reality that he had been craving.

"So, now that your debate's done with, you're all mine for the next 5 days. What do you want to do?"

"...**you.**"

Looking down at her with pink cheeks, she simply shrugged and slid a fond hand over his behind before heading towards the parking lot, confident that he'd follow her.

He did.

_**/**_

Before they began, Olivia firmly shut and locked his bedroom doors. The good former Senator was out, according to the remaining staff, and probably wouldn't be back until long after dark. His defense team was meeting with each of the women today, offering up deals and settlements to keep them from adding onto the growing amount of legal woes he was facing. The Neiderman Panel had solid proof of him taking bribes from his first Gubernatorial race and was indicted, along with Hollis Doyle, on charges of tax evasion and a connection to money laundering out of the Doyle holdings in Southeast Asia. So, really, if the man came back to the Grant Ranch- Compound before midnight, she'd be impressed. Or less than impressed with the capabilities of the team…

Pivoting, she made to speak but her words died in her throat as she took him in.

Fitz had removed his black military jacket and plum purple t-shirt. His belt was undone and the button to his khaki pants was loose, prompting the material to slide down to his hipbones. His very bare hipbones. He had been walking around without underwear this whole time? His chiseled physique took on a soft glow from the sun and his bare feet thumped quietly on the floor as he approached her with a predator's smoothness, confident that she'd accept him. The virgin's enthusiasm and zeal in their bedroom remained but the shyness was gone, washed out by her soft warmth and near constant want of him.

Their gazes met.

_...I want you. I'm going to have you. Let me love you. I'm going to make you feel so good, baby…_

_...Touch me. Touch me, kiss me, lick me, fuck me, hold me, love me, I want you…_

Her knees began to wobble but she held firm, gasping softly as he gripped her neck and face with his left hand. Olivia felt her breath hitch and shivery heat filled her as he boldly, firmly pressed his lower half into hers. With a small roll of her hips, she pressed back, skimming gentle fingertips over a pale pink nipple. Fitz let out a small hiss and grabbed both her wrists, heat singing her nerves as he stepped back…

"**Take off your clothes.**"

The fiery butterflies from before erupted in her belly and she smiled at him as she obeyed his command, her blouse sliding off of her like warm water. She toed off her heels and slowly dragged the zipper of her skirt down, sending it to the floor with a soft whoosh. A black lingerie set covered her, the white flowers upon the panties matching the one still in her hair. Olivia gasped and held on as Fitz came for her, lifting her up and kissing her deeply as he placed her at the foot of the bed.

She wanted him in her mouth.

The throbbing between her legs deepened and her mouth watered. She had only gotten to taste him a few times. When it came to oral, Fitz was open to receiving but his passion lay in giving. He had allowed her to explore, to take every inch of him and enjoy but he hadn't come in her mouth before. He would shift away before he could, pulling her up and over onto him to scramble her mind, to make her sweat, scream, work and ache for his seed…

This time would be different.

Breaking the kiss, she threw down a pillow and sank to her knees, pulling his pants down to his ankles. As soon as he was free of them, she swallowed him whole, prompting a loud growl of pleasure to escape her man. Wrapping her arms firmly around his waist, she held him hostage, twining and twisting her tongue over him as she suckled deeply, lovingly. He was sweet and salty, the neatly groomed hair tickling her cheeks, her chin. A low whine and a shiver accompanied her lips closing over his tightening sac, kissing and licking as the hot essence boiled within it. Her tongue licked a firm, messy stripe upwards, following the thick vein on the underside of him to the hypersensitive head. Both of them were panting and she looked up at him pleadingly, opening her mouth wide.

Olivia groaned her exultation as his hands buried in her hair and moved forward, deeply fucking her willing mouth. Oh, yes…he was delicious and hers and so hot for her, losing his control.

"Good…_**so**__ good_…", he praised her as he rocked on his heels.

His strong thighs trembled and tightened, his hips pounded, and she doubled her efforts, her fingertips caressing and rolling as his pants increased, his moans deepened and…

With a raw wordless yell, he succumbed and Olivia moaned blissfully as his seed flooded her taste buds, thick and sweet. She was dripping all over the pillow, her knees spread wider as she tongued him down, not wasting a drop of him. She licked, she suckled, and she kissed, pulling away reluctantly as he softened. Resting her head on his right thigh, she panted for air, closing her eyes as he stroked her hair fondly. After a while, she stood up and he embraced her, kissing her brow tenderly as he got his breath back.

"God, Livvie…"

"_**Mmmm**_…"

_**/**_

Her bra yielded and he stroked her bare back as they kissed, her petite form on top of his. Her sodden panties were removed and discarded, his whole hand cupping her blossoming sex. She was sticky and swollen, dripping all over him and Fitz licked her lower lip, still tasting traces of his climax on it, a climax that nearly sent him to his grave.

He would not deny her again. The warm ecstasy of her mouth, the sweet skill of her tongue, and the sheer amount of rapture on her face as she sucked him would not permit him to.

Looking deep into her eyes, he felt her fingers in his hair and saw the softness in her features. That softness was his softness. Leaning forward, their noses brushed and she smiled at him, prompting him to leverage forward so she was underneath him. Olivia giggled and wrapped her arms around him, spreading her legs wide. When he tried to move down, to reciprocate her attentions, she shook her head and thrust her hips upward, silently demanding him to enter her, to pleasure her, to fill her up.

Fitz entered her slowly, almost lazily and she sighed happily, lightly scratching at his back. God, she was so gorgeous. The sunshine made her milk chocolate skin look like it was covered in diamonds and her eyes were luminous, still exultant from her conquest of him earlier but longing. Her swollen pink lips were parted and trembling, the soft silk making a perfect 'O' as he began to make tender love to her. Olivia smiled and one of her hands brushed her hair back from her brow, her eyes loosely shut as she moaned.

"…_**amazing**__…you feel…ooh, you feel so…mmm, Fitz…don't stop…don't __**ever**__ stop_…"


	6. Chapter 6

**Author's Note: Hello, everyone. 2013 was pretty good to me overall but I'm glad to see it go. The rest of the week's focus will be on **_**Shattering**_** and also, a year opening **_**SCANDAL**_**-ous offering and it's already shaping up to be pretty good in my drafting. One of my favorite Tumblr gladiators (marsofbrooklyn) gave me the prompt a few weeks back and my Muses are hyped, almost as hyped as I was to see all the positive responses to **_**Living the Dream**_**. It was definitely worth the wrestling with FFN and Tumblr to get it up and out. It's gonna stand alone but I'm open to doing more stories going in depth (in more ways than one) on the canon and non-canon lovemaking between our heroes. I've always wanted to do a Trail fic.**

**Now, as for this chapter: The opening events between Olivia and Big Jerry have been in the draftbook since the Jump. I know that triggers are out there and everyone is different so I want to put a caveat out there out of respect and if you guys want to skip this one, go right ahead. There is **_**attempted sexual assault**_** in the opening scene with the aftermath filtering throughout the rest of the chapter and probably the next, too. I pray that I've written the situation without disrespecting the subject or triggering anyone but if I have, please PM/message me or put it in a review/note. If necessary, I'll scrap this chapter altogether and come up with a new one. My writings are mine but I truly do not want to hurt anyone out there reading. That's not what fanfic and fandom's for. It's supposed to be fun…**

**Disclaimer: "Honestly, it's not mine!"**

"Well, _**this**_ is a much more welcome sight than a midnight prowler…"

Olivia could practically see the booze radiating from the man's pores and she marveled that he was still standing. Big Jerry's smile vaguely reminded her of The Joker's and his face was flushed near cranberry red. His white and gray striped pajama top was buttoned incorrectly and he pulled a small flask out of the pocket of his black sweatpants, taking another hearty swig.

"What are you doing down here? I figured Tripp would be all over you, still. Or rather, you'd be all over him still."

"People need to sleep eventually. I woke up to watch the storm."

"Watch the storm?"

"Thunderstorms are beautiful to me."

Driving rain lashed against the burnt sienna wooden deck outside the french doors and the ocean was a churning mass of blues, grays, and purples, white foam spewing with each large wave. The sky was a rich onyx and the lightning strikes looked like blue and white flames. Sand blew in the air like mist and the breeze was cool through the window she had cracked. The former Senator snorted to himself at the whimsical reply and his gaze raked over her as he sat down at the kitchen island. She was in simple white tank top and a kelly green pair of Fitz's plaid pajama pants brushed against the tops of her bare feet. Her hair was up and she knew that hickeys were visible to the older man's appraisal.

She honestly didn't care one way or another about the former senator's interest but Fitz did. A few months of change couldn't completely obliterate years of dynamics and she knew that her actions, her words towards Big Jerry would be cataloged by him. Millicent and the other girls from his past that came into the man's orbit had been enamored with him, some of them more than others. They had hung on his every word and responded to the sly flirtations and innuendos. While Fitz had spoken to her about it like it meant nothing, Olivia knew better. It had hurt. He had felt rejected and inadequate and like no one would want him for him. Maybe if he were a little more gregarious. Maybe if he wasn't so warm and open with his emotions. Maybe if he were…better, then the girls wouldn't…

Looking at Big Jerry, she felt nothing but pity and disgust. On paper, he was successful, at least before the Scandals erupted but inside, there was nothing. He was a deeply unhappy, insecure, and petty man. He had it all and had nothing. The way he had used people and used to 'advise' Fitz reminded her too much of Geppetto or in a more modern example, the Emperor from the _**Star Wars**_ movies. He cloaked his malice in secrecy and sweet words, a warm helping hand, a man that could be trusted but then he would reveal the truth. He only say people as pawns to use or upwardly mobile individuals to attach to like a leech, a way to expand and deepen his coffers of money and influence.

He was one of the 'privileged predators' that Eli used to warn her against,used to rant about. He was what Edison and Jake and others claimed Fitz was. She knew that he saw her as little more than an exotic plaything that just happened to have a decent mind…

Climbing off of her high stool, she put the empty tea mug in the sink and made to leave.

A firm hand went over her arm and she tensed as it stroked downwards like she was velvet.

"Let go of me. **Now.**"

"Oh come on, sweetheart… don't act like you're a stranger to having a Grant man touch you. Hell, if you could, you'd probably fuck Tripp in the middle of the National Mall!"

"That's him, not you! Get your damned hands off of me, now!"

Big Jerry made to pull her down and she grabbed the nearest heavy object and swung as hard as she could at his hand. The impact of the rolling pin's landing sounded like a gunshot and she screamed loudly for Fitz as the now incensed man started to advance on her as she backed away quickly. The doors leading to the deck were behind the man but if she could just…

"_**Livvie?!**_"

Big Jerry froze and she panted for air, keeping her guard up even as Fitz's running footsteps thundered on the stairs. The kitchen light turned on and the both of them looked at the entrance as Fitz took in the scene, the storm outside tapering off. The arm his father had grabbed was in his direct line of vision, along with the raised rolling pin and Olivia felt the air charge hot as the dots were connected. His jaw clenched and he went to the landline, calmly dialing 911.

"_You can't be serious_… I didn't even touch her!", he spat incredulously.

If looks could kill, Big Jerry would be a smoking husk.

"…yes, ma'am, the Grant Compound...main house and kitchen…I'm not sure…her arm's hurt…"

Lowering the rolling pin, Olivia took in the throbbing area of her left tricep. The skin was reddened and beginning to darken around the edges. There were nail marks from when the man tried to tug her onto his lap and one of them was beading blood. Big Jerry's focus was completely on Fitz and soon as he hung up, he blew.

"**It's never enough for you, is it?!** How the _**fuck**_ can you just keep on screwing me over without a care in the world?!"

"You hurt Olivia.", he replied bluntly.

"_I didn't touch her!_ I don't need your sloppy seconds, Fitzgerald!"

"So, you're saying that the mark on her arm just came from her running into a wall? That she just hit you with a rolling pin because she was bored? That she was screaming for me to help her and backing away from you as a joke? You may not have touched her sexually but you were definitely willing to try! You weren't taking no for an answer and she had to defend herself as best she could from you! You scared her! **You hurt her** and you're not getting away with it!"

"I'm pressing charges.", she declared softly, drawing both men's attention back to her, one stricken and the other appalled. "I'm pressing charges and I want to leave here as soon as possible. There's…my mother's estate left me an apartment near the university. We can stay there for the rest of the break."

"Olivia, I'm _**so**_ sorry. If I had known that he would do something like this..."

"Don't take on guilt that doesn't belong to you, baby. You didn't tell him to hurt me. I didn't ask him to hurt me. He decided to do it on his own because he's sick and sad. **This is not your fault**, **Fitz.**"

"It's not yours, either."

"I know that logically."

_**/**_

"_**Former California Senator Fitzgerald Grant Jr. was arrested early this morning after an attempted sexual assault of Olivia Pope, girlfriend of his son Fitzgerald Grant III…"**_

Eli watched as the disgraced man was hustled through a crowd of photographers, surrounded by police officers. On the left side of the split screen was an aerial shot of the Grant Compound and on the right was a still of his daughter with the Grant boy. The picture was recent, taken within the last few months. She was in an ochre sweater and a black broomstick skirt, white classic heels on her feet. The boy was in a black suit sans a jacket, the shirt white and the undone tie black. They appeared to be in mid-dance and her smile was brilliant, holding laughter within it…

The middle portion of the screen changed to show Olivia speaking with a female detective in the foyer, audio cut for what little privacy the media would allow her. Her left tricep was bandaged and she was curled within herself in a long white dress, arms around her knees and head bowed, eyes up watchfully. Eli remembered her doing that before and after Maya's death. A male detective came up and collected the physical evidence, her bagged pajamas and he chuckled at the sight of a split rolling pin. It was an unconventional yet brutally effective choice of weapon, a reflection of its wielder…

The screen went back to the footage of the fucker who hurt her and sure enough, the man's left hand was swollen and both his ring and middle fingers were splinted. Big Jerry's head was up high but his face was a picture, not of shame but of muted, deepening terror. The man had gone from King of the Mountain to a political joke, yet another politician caught with their hand in the cookie jar. Now, he was shown to be a predator on young women. The fact Olivia was African-American wouldn't stop the system from getting up in arms for once. She had gone out to California for a school debate before having some fun in the sun with her boyfriend and ended up facing off with the boyfriend's whorish lying monster of a father. And winning. But she could've easily been overpowered and hurt badly.

In one drunken, sleazy action, the man had reignited the fires that had banked in favor of pursuing a fleeing Hollis Doyle and they were burning twice as hot with new parties adding their fuel to them.

If the man didn't drop dead under the weight of his own hubris, then the inmates within whatever federal prison he would live in would have pine box paroled within a year.

Acceptable but not swift enough for his tastes. Estranged or not, Olivia was his only child and only viable connection he had left to Maya.

No one would hurt her without consequences. The ultimate punishment would have to wait but that didn't mean that he was out of options.

Picking up his office phone, Eli muted the television and dialed a familiar number.

"_What can I do ya for, boss?_"

"I have an assignment for you, Charlie. How soon can you get to California?"

_**/**_

"_Say the word, man and we'll feed that fucker to the sharks. Un-fucking_-_**believable!**_"

"I told you guys that my dad was a piece of work. I never thought he'd sink this low. Jesus, what if he's hurt someone else like that? What if there's someone out there who couldn't fight back?"

"_Let the authorities work on that line of questioning, Fitz. How's Poindexter? Is she holding up well?_"

"I can't tell. She seems to be okay and she said she was but I just…fuck, I should've ripped his fucking head off when I had the chance!"

"_Nah, man. Fuck that shit. What you need to do is calm down and be there for her. __**You can't fix it.**__ You can't undo it but you __**can **__support her. If she needs a shrink, you get her a shrink. If she needs to beat the hell out of something, you help her beat the hell out of something, even if it's you. Get her ice cream. Watch a stupid sappy flick with her. Listen to her if she wants to talk and be quiet if she wants quiet. If she wants to cry, get her some Kleenex and hold her and if she won't let you hold her, then just sit with her. She needs to know that you're still in her corner, that even though it seems like the whole world is shit, there's at least one person who isn't a piece of it._"

"_**Dude**__."_

"_I gotta write that shit down."_

"…_holy fuck._"

"_That was beautiful, man."_

"That's…wow, Larry."

"_My momma has been volunteering at women's shelters for as long as I can remember. She taught me a lot. So, what are we gonna do when the break ends? You know that people are gonna be talking out their asses and everything…"_

"_Olivia's one of us, now. We protect our own and that's what we're gonna do. We should get her friends in on it, too. New Rule: No one fucks with Poindexter."_

"I like that rule. Listen, I gotta go. I'll talk you guys after we get back."

Fitz ended the Skype call and turned towards the attached bathroom. After they left the Compound, she had assured him that she was fine. She had given him the directions to the apartment building and had eaten all of the breakfast burrito he had picked up for her. Silence had fallen between them and he was unsure how to breach it or if she wanted it breached. He wanted to help, needed to help but he was just…what could he do? He couldn't go back and stop her from going downstairs nor could he make sure that his father was passed out. A boom of thunder had jolted him awake and he had seen the open doors. Her phone and wallet were still there so he had known that she wasn't far. As he dried his hands from his trip to the bathroom, the crack of the rolling pin sounded and then the worst sound he had ever heard reached him as he sprinted.

He had never heard someone scream with that much fear, that much sadness, and she was screaming for him. He had called back to her, jumped down the last 6 stairs and gotten to the kitchen, adrenaline blazing through him. The light came on and they had both turned their heads to look at him. While his father's face was twisted with anger and pain from his hand, her face had just been devastated and when he saw the mark, the bleeding nail cuts, his vision had gone crimson.

Only the thought of Olivia crying as he was hauled away in cuffs kept him from throttling the old, sick fuck until he was cold on the floor. Big Jerry had tried to gloss over what had happened but he knew better. He always knew better. Olivia was not the first one he had put his moves on but he had never gotten violent before. Or maybe he had. Ever since the whole mess started, Fitz was learning things about his father that he had never imagined were possible…

The door opened with a low creak and he could see her sitting on the floor in her towel, still damp from a shower. Her head raised slowly and after swallowing thickly, she held up her arms. Crossing to her, Fitz picked her up gently and she rested her head on his shoulder as he moved to the kitchen. Placing her on the counter, he used a clean dishtowel to wipe her face. She sniffled and looked down at her toes, the sparkles in the clear polish catching the sunlight.

Pulling the bowl out of the microwave, he grabbed a spoon out of the drawer and she looked up at him again before taking in the offering.

"My mother used to make me chicken with stars when I was sick or sad. I know it's not much but…"

"It's everything."

Their eyes met for a long beat and she delicately accepted the spoonful he offered her. The silence returned but it was warmer, broken only by the clink of the spoon on the bowl and her soft swallows. Once the bowl was empty, he quickly cleaned the mess and looked to her for his next cue. Whatever she wanted, whatever she needed, he'd give it to her…

"I'm probably not going to want to make love for a while but…could you please hold me?"

"Of course. Do you want to be carried again?"

She held out her arms and he scooped her up. She held onto him with gentle urgency and he sat down at the edge of the bed. Her hands went to the hem of his plum t-shirt and he tilted his head inquiringly as it was tossed to the floor.

"I want to feel your heartbeat."

Laying back, Fitz watched as Olivia rested her cheek over his heart and put one of the blankets over her. With another soft sniffle, her eyes drifted shut and soon, she was asleep.

He joined her shortly thereafter.


	7. Chapter 7

**Author's Note: Hello, there. If you follow me on Tumblr, you already know why I've been gone. If not, the short version of the story is that I got fired in the wake of the 1****st**** Round of the Polar Vortex (why didn't just call it Snownado and quit playing? Polar Vortex? **_**Really?**_**), I drank almost a whole bottle of strawberry Boone's Farm wine on a mostly empty stomach (Big. Ass. Mistake.), had a long overdue crying/ existential fit in my big sister's car, found out I wasn't fired after all while getting my back wages, and all of the stress (plus extended hours of freezing cold darkness outside) triggered a downward spiral in my depression that I haven't experienced since my Freshman year of high school. I needed to step back, take a breath, swear never, ever to drink like that again, and re-evaluate some things in my life. I'm okay now. Honest. I still have my job and I've got a plan for some needed changes so…yeah. I'm okay. **

**Disclaimer: "Honestly, it's not mine!"**

_Your mind is just trying to process what happened. You're still scared and insecure, justifiably so, and your subconscious showed it. It was just nightmares. Big Jerry didn't rape you. Fitz believed you. Everyone believed you. Fitz is still here. He didn't leave you. Big Jerry was hauled away in handcuffs. You're safe and away from him. You're safe and away from him. __**You're safe and away from him…**_

The mantra was weak in its comfort. After an initially dreamless and restoring sleep, her mind had rebelled against her. In the nightmare, Big Jerry had been much bigger, much more forceful, much more…and afterwards, Fitz _**hadn't **_believed her. He had taken his father's side. He had thrown her out of the Compound, out of his life, and testified against her at a Kangaroo Court like trial, resided over by Edison Davis. The prosecutor had been a demonic caricature of Millicent Vaughn, a caricature that spent 90% of the time making out with Fitz and actually helping the defense team, led by Eli and Cyrus Beene. The farce of a trial had ended in _**her**_ being taken away, locked away forever and Big Jerry laughing mockingly at her struggles to get free, the banging of the gavel transitioning between the whoosh of the rolling pin missing and her screams for help being unanswered…

And then to make things worse, a second nightmare blended into the first. Thousands of unwanted unseen touches on her running nude body, her screams for it all to stop ignored by everyone or outright mocked. It served her right, they said. She shouldn't have been so frigid before. She shouldn't have gone to that House Party in the first place. She shouldn't have given it up to Fitz so easily and then have the audacity to try and make a relationship with him, afterwards. Who did she think she was? Who gave her the idea that the BOMC belonged with the Bougie Bookworm forever?

_**And**_ she shouldn't have been so brazen with Fitz earlier, fucking him in front of his father like it was nothing? Wow. She had given Big Jerry ammunition. No wonder he had felt entitled.

_**And **_she shouldn't have been wandering off by herself and seriously, who watches thunderstorms? What was she, a 12 year old?

In a small cruel comfort, Fitz had been trying valiantly to get to her in the second nightmare, trying to drown out the vitriol with his loving words, trying to cover her with his Georgetown sweatshirt but he had been held back and beaten by more caricatures of Millicent before the nightmare ended in a giant, Godzilla like monster caricature of Big Jerry stomping on the both of them, destroying them…

_Your mind is just trying to process what happened. You're still scared and insecure, justifiably so, and your subconscious showed it. It was just nightmares. Big Jerry didn't rape you. Fitz believed you. Everyone believed you. Fitz is still here. He didn't leave you. Big Jerry was hauled away in handcuffs. You're safe and away from him. You're safe and away from him. __**You're safe and away from him…**_

Shuddering with remembered revulsion, Olivia sat up and looked around the empty bedroom. Where was Fitz? Had he left her, after all?

"Fitz?", she called tentatively.

In response, the sound of him lurching off of the couch (and stubbing his toe on a baseboard) reached her ears and she breathed a sigh of relief as he filled the doorway. He had put his shirt back on. Although he was visibly concerned, he wasn't peppering her with questions or trying to immediately coddle her. She appreciated that. Even with the trauma, she was still herself and while she would embrace genuine comfort, there was an inner steel and independence to her that needed to be respected. She had cultivated that steel through the years of loneliness and abandonment and she wanted,_** needed **_to keep it. Yet, she…god, it was all so fucking confusing…

"Hi. I…I just…I had nightmares and I woke up alone and I thought you were gone and…"

"Livvie, I'm not going anywhere unless you want me to."

She nodded and quickly replaced the towel with the fresh clothes he had left on the nightstand. Panties, bra, long sleeved shirt, sweatpants, even a pair of fuzzy socks, all in white and cool neutrals. She would be completely covered up and she appreciated that, too. Things were too raw right now for nudity, even with Fitz. She was sure that she would be able to be comfortable again in the future but for now…

"I don't want you to go. I didn't want you to go before all of this happened but right now…I _**need**_ you to stay with me. I-I…god, I don't like this… and he didn't even…"

"Olivia, you were still assaulted. He still hurt you and…"

"…violated me. I feel violated, Fitz! And scared. And angry. And I just want to lay here for the rest of my life and I want to go down to the police station and bash his sick fucking head in! What the hell gave him the right to do that to me? Who the **_fuck_** told him that it would be perfectly acceptable to try and fuck his son's girlfriend…t-try to **_rape_** his son's girlfriend?! What the hell is wrong with him?!", she roared indignantly.

"I don't know. I've been trying to figure it out off and on for years and I just don't know, Olivia. I'm scared that it's genetic.", he replied in a small tone.

At that, she quickly got out of the bed and right in his face, grabbing his shoulders to make him look at her, make him listen closely.

"It is not genetic! There's nothing wrong with you! You would never do something like what… and even during our first time when I was practically climbing you, you made sure that I…no. You're not…Fitz, he's the sick one, not you. You're better than him. Don't lump yourself in with him. **There is absolutely nothing wrong with you, Fitz.**"

"I'm not perfect, Olivia."

"I know that. None of us are but you're…you're a good man. You're a good person. You shouldn't be scared of turning into anything brewing in that monster's head. That's not you. That's not who you are. You don't…you don't hurt people like that. You would never."

His face visibly softened and he remarked as if he were thinking out loud, "You have so much faith in me. More than anyone before…"

Olivia hugged him and his arms wrapped around her, reminding her of the early days of their relationship. Only this time, the tentativeness wasn't protecting himself but it was protecting her. He wanted to touch her, to comfort her and take comfort from her but he also didn't want to hurt her further. Ending the hug, Fitz drew her away from him and pressed a soft kiss to her cloth covered tricep, the bandages there yielding a little. The gesture made her ache with tenderness and softened her heart even further towards him. No, he was not perfect. No human being was perfect. Everyone had flaws, everyone had something to work on and through…

He was perfect for her. He had been perfect for her before. He was perfect for her now.

He would be perfect for her in the future.

"You're going to be okay, Olivia. I know you'll be okay."

She believed him completely.


End file.
